Meiyo Ai soshite Nikushimi
by Knokun
Summary: An epic story dealing with the loss of innocence and the final step into adulthood
1. Note

I would like to state that this story was not created by me. Meiyo Ai soshite Nikushimi was screated by Joseph A. Kohle The story was originally archived in http://www.geocities.com/Tokyo/Flats/6184/MASN.html. Most links are now dead and I feel that this story is too great to disappear without a trace. So, I used the Internet Archive tool to bring the story back to the public.  
  
I am posting MASN, unfinished, as is, with errors and all. I do not have personal consent on posting this here. But in each of the chapters, the author states that MASN can be archived.  
  
So, now that I'm done, on to the story. 


	2. Vol 1 Chap 1

DISCLAIMER: Ranma Nibunnoichi is the property of Takahashi Rumiko, Shogakukan Inc, Shonen Sunday Comics, and Viz Video. It is used without their permission and is not intended for profit but only for the enjoyment of fans of the Ranma series. All characters within this fic that are not the property of the above mentioned are copyrighted to the author, Joseph Kohle, January 1997. This work of fiction is the result of the author's hard work and is for the enjoyment of others. Please do not change, modify, or use any segment of this story without the author's knowing and written consent. Feel free to archive this work.  
  
WARNING: This story contains material of an adult nature and may not be suitable for some reader's tastes or age. This is not a lemon or a dark fic, but it does include graphic scenes.  
  
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Meiyo Ai soshite Nikushimi  
  
A Ranma Nibunnoichi Fanfic  
by Joseph A. Kohle  
  
Part I: The Step Beyond  
Chapter I Atonement  
  
I can't do it. I can't face her, not after what I've done to her.   
Immobile as a rock he stood before her door, his hand raised partway, his face twisted in a grimace of grief and sorrow. He had to see her. It was the only way to set everything right between them both, but he was unable to bring his hand down and knock on her door. To do that was to set himself on a path that eventually led to disaster. No, I'm already on that path, but can I finish it? Or do I lay down and die beside it?  
A strangled whimper issued from his throat, as his hand dropped to his side, lifelessly. I can't do it. This is too much to bear.   
Indignation rose in him like blistering lava. Too much for you to bear! What about her? She suffers and you agonize. Baka. Insensitive. You betrayed and hurt her, and you say you can't bear it.   
The guilt followed closely as his emotions seesawed back and forth as changing and unpredictable as a leaf on the wind. What he had done was reprehensible, degrading to himself, to her. For a week he had struggled with it, not sleeping, not eating. His life had collapsed around him. Finally he had come to her door, forced there by guilt and a need to make things right. He had to face her just once, ask forgiveness for the unforgivable, try to apologize in the only way he had been able to think of.  
Unbidden her tear-streaked face flashed through his tormented mind, accusing him. Her eyes were squeezed tightly shut, her body shaking. It was beyond his endurance to bear it any longer. How could you do that? The question wailed soundlessly in his mind.   
I didn't want to. It just happened. I never wanted to hurt her. Never. Never! Tears were streaking his cheeks. I was so worried. That thing struck her so hard. How could I stop myself? It happened so fast.  
  
~~*~~  
  
The dark form darted through the foliage, streaking unerringly towards him. In the molted light leaking through the thick evergreen boughs, it was a shifting, fluid pattern. Slanted red eyes burned with the fire of hatred and desire. The gapping maw was searching for his soft, vulnerable flesh. He knew it would not stop until the beast had impaled him on its razor-sharp, curved talons, which flashed as they struck towards his face.  
The attack forced him to duck, but the creature had planned on it. Murder flashed through its eyes before it moved in. Reversing its deadly attack, he was caught off guard as the creature swung its other forearm at him. The rock-hard member slammed into his chest, forcing the breath from his body as it sent him careening backwards into a tree.   
Stars exploded around him as his head struck a branch. Moaning he crumpled to the ground, the forest spinning around him, despite his best efforts to cease the motion. He attempted to remove himself from the ground, but his body refused to listen to him. He could only sit and wait for his head to clear.  
His only satisfaction was that Akane had gotten away. There was no way she could have kept with him. It was his fault that Happousai had been angered. It was his fault for bringing her along with him to train. At least now she was safe.  
Dimly he saw the creature rushing at him. There was nothing that would save him. He saw his death in those cruel eyes. Then Akane was there, screaming at the creature, launching herself recklessly into its path to save him. Shock and fear filtered into his mind, and he tried to scream, tell her to stop. Anything, but nothing came out.  
Helplessly, he watched her fly at the beast, hoping she would succeed. It was not to be. The demon noticed her quickly, but did not even break its stride to deal with her. A single arm lashed out at Akane like the thing was swatting an annoying fly. A shrill whistle followed the arm as it cut through the air. Akane never saw the attack, it was too fast for her, too powerful. The forearm struck like a wrecking ball, a crack of thunder was the sound it made as it connected with her head and shoulder.  
In horror he watched her head snap back.   
Her body went limp.  
She flew away from the beast to land in a crumpled heap off to his side on a patch of moss  
A single shaft of light illuminating her still and silent face.  
He saw no movement. Her chest was not rising.   
His mind shattered like glass.  
Dead.   
The word sounded hollowly in the vaults of his mind, ringing like a mournful bell.   
Dead.   
He was empty. Nothing was there. It was like the world had ceased to exist, as if it had crumpled around him, leaving him alone with his shredded dreams and hopes among the rubble.   
Dead.   
There was nothing to live for anymore. Nothing that would bring him joy.  
Then he saw the demon still rushing at him, and then there was something to live for. Revenge. It was hollow. It was lifeless, but it filled him with a goal. A simple desire that he could achieve at this moment. It was an outlet that he desperately needed.  
Rage, anger, grief, and depression burst forth like an eruption of searing lava. Power washed over him, through him, on a scale even the Lost Boy Ryouga had never known existed. It pounded within him, forcing him to his feet, forcing his arm up. An inarticulate scream of grief and rage shattered the calm forest air as he released everything at the beast.  
The product of Happousai's deranged machinations was caught in a fiery blast of ki. It was not even blasted backwards. It was impossible for that to happen. The creature disappeared in the raging torrent of his grief. Yet he didn't care. Even before the light of the blast had dissipated, he was half running, half stumbling to Akane's still form shouting her name.  
Collapsing beside her still form, he picked her up, cradling her in his arms. Rocking her like a small child, he begged her to come back to him. He pleaded with her, promised her everything if she would just wake up for him. His tears fell on her face as he called her name again and again.  
Somehow, a small voice spoke within him, prompting him to do something. Reluctantly he laid her down, his hands groping for her neck, checking her pulse.   
Nothing.   
No breath. The panic welled again, and he forced it down, trying to concentrate on his training.  
As he concentrated, his body was moving of its own volition. He gently tilted her head back, and breathed into her mouth, forcing oxygen to her lungs. A few quick breaths followed before he turned to her chest. Instinctively finding the breast bone slightly beneath and to the side of her heart, he gave several rapid compressions before giving her breath once more.  
For long minutes he continued his administrations, tears cascading down his face to splash in wet puddles on her skin.  
Then she was moaning in pain, her body suddenly thrashing as his lips left hers. It was as if the sun had risen. Hope and joy filled his soul as he realized she was alive. He did not even think. Pulling her body to his, he kissed her forehead, tears of joy streaming down his face.  
  
~~*~~  
  
And after that. He could not bring himself to think about after that. It was too hard, too painful. He had lost her and gained her and lost her all in the matter of minutes. How could I be so stupid?  
For the thousandth time that week he wished Happousai had not released that demon. He wished everything was like it had been. He wished he was downstairs fighting with Akane right now, anything was preferable to the misery and shame he felt now.  
Denial reared its head like a striking snake, injecting its venom into him. It wasn't my fault. It was Happousai's. If that bastard hentai had left us alone, if he hadn't released that demon, none of this would have happened. I'll kill that old fool.  
A sharp pain flared in his left hand as his fist tightened about the long wooden box he was holding, the sharp edges digging into his skin. The pain brought him back to his senses, forced reality into his clouded mind.  
No! It's my fault. Everything was my fault. You did that to her. You hurt her. No one made you do anything.  
The guilt washed over him again. The shame he felt over his actions crippled him, nearly forcing him to the tears he had been fighting all week. His love for Akane made everything that much harder to bear. What he had taken from her was irretrievable, as impossible to return as the stars were to hold in your hand. It was a wound that was never going to heal, a scar she had to live with forever and ever. But he was going to make it easier for her to bear it, to live with it. He was here to see that the justice she deserved was meted out, and the atonement he desperately sought was found.  
Self-repudiation was not enough. Despising himself was not enough. He could not even apologize and call the score equal. Instead he had to make a sacrifice that equaled her pain. Loss for loss. Pain for pain. For a week he had sought the right answer, and for a week he had failed. In the end only one course of action was the correct one, the honorable one, and that was what he was here to do today. He would travel the honourable path.  
He pulled himself up, his blue-gray eyes flashing with purpose and determination. Now or never. He had to do it now or he would never be able to do it. Waiting only made it worse, only eroded his confidence and resolve. She did not need to suffer any longer. One moment of the suffering and anguish she must be feeling was too much for him. The debt must be paid.  
Clutching the wooden case tightly in his hand, he pushed open her door, not even bothering to knock. She would not want to see him anyway. He did not blame her. With a dread sense of purpose burning in his heart, bolstering his courage, he silently entered her room.  
  
~~*~~  
  
His first kiss turned to many. His mind was still reeling from every thing that had happened. He had been so sure that she would never revive, that now he needed confirmation, something to prove that this was real, that he was not just dreaming it while she was in actuality just a lifeless body in his arms.   
So he kissed her forehead, her cheeks. His lips brushed hers again and again. In between each kiss, he murmured over and over how much he loved her. He whispered how scared he had been; how empty he had been. He told her to never leave him again.  
Slowly, she came back to him. His urgent words, his soft kisses, his gentle hands caressing and holding her body all worked to revive her. Her eyes fluttered a bit and then slowly opened. Staring into their depths, he forced all of his love into his own gaze, trying to tell her with one glance everything he had ever felt about her.  
"Ranma?" she asked, her eyes filled with confusion, uncertainty.  
His heart skipped a beat. She was alive. He pulled her into his embrace, holding her tightly. "I thought I'd lost you," he whispered hoarsely, "I never want to lose you." He kissed her tenderly, his lips pressing down against hers.  
At first she did not respond, shock from her revival combining with his actions and words to confound her and steal the passion from her. But his soft lips pressing against hers, the intoxicating taste of the kiss, the passionate fire burning in his eyes drew her to him. Gently, despite her exhaustion, or perhaps because of it, she returned the kiss, giving into his enveloping love.  
For the first time, they were together, one under the heavens. The barriers he had constructed, forced up over the time he had known her crumbled. He no longer refused what he could not deny. Love pushed the dams down, shattering them in an instant and washing over him, carrying him along in an uncontrollable rush of emotion, dragging him into the oblivion of desire that was Akane's arms, her lips, her body. "I don't ever want to lose you," he whispered, his voice gruff with emotion.  
  
~~*~~  
  
And now he had. It had only taken a few minutes, and now he was never going to have her. Only a few minutes and his lack of control and restraint had damned him for the rest of his life. Culpability rested on his shoulders and only his. When the piper came for his money, he was going to be forced to pay, even though the children and joy had already been taken from him.  
The truth of this became painfully obvious to him as he walked into Akane's room. She was sitting on her bed, her back turned to him. Head bowed to her chest, shoulders slumped in defeat, she looked so miserable that it tore at his heart. Her body betrayed her emotions to him, shouted louder than words the anguish and pain he had inflicted upon her.   
Loneliness and bereavement radiated from her like the heat from a stove. All were accusations flung at him like stones. It was germane. In his mind, he deserved to be stoned for his transgressions.   
But even though he accepted the punishment, it did not mean he was unaffected by it. What he saw before him was a blow that struck his very core. A soft whimper of horror and sympathy escaped his lips as the blow struck him, nearly forcing him to his knees.   
I'm sorry, Akane. I'm so sorry.  
But those were words that lacked the power to appease her or himself. Yet what else was there to say? Were there even words that might actually heal the wounds, cross the gap that had come between them? No, there were no words that did that. Only actions had the effect he desired. At the same time, however, it was impossible for him not to explain, not to tell her how he felt, how sorry he was.  
Grief, guilt, hatred, despite all warred within him demanding to be appeased, to be soothed in some way. It was so hard to do that. How could he? He did not have the strength anymore. He had never had that kind of strength, and that which he had had was now gone. But he had to do this. Necessity and his own honour demanded such.   
At some point a condemned man reaches the end of his strength, the end of his willpower and finds acceptance and peace in himself. It is a soothing calm that washes away his doubts and misgivings to leave only acceptance and the courage to go on. Like the eye in the middle of the hurricane, this is a time of calm that separates him from the violence and confusion of the storm, breaks its hold on him. This is the fearless nobility of the martyr, the undaunted courage of the soldier at the last stand, the detached certainty of the suicidal.  
For him it was the pain and sorrow of the one he loved that tempered his heart. Her sorrow brushed aside his lingering doubts, obliterated any thought of turning back, retreating from the inevitable. Shame and guilt coalesced in the torturous fires of his self-hatred and annealed to form a purpose as clear and untarnished as a crystal. Amends would be made. He would give her back her life as much as he could. He would make it right. Never again would she suffer through or live haunted by what he had done to her.  
Turning he closed the door behind him and clicked the lock. He did not want any interruptions. Any person had the ability to stop him with but a few words. He knew he did not have the personal strength to resist them, he was barely able to force himself onto this course, so he locked the door and turned to face Akane. Carefully he lowered himself to his knees and placed the wooden case in front of him, within easy reach. Resting his hands on his knees, he bowed his head to his chest and took in a deep breath. Clearing his mind of everything but his task, he tried to let his heart speak for him just this once.  
"I-I don't know how to say this," he began lamely, his tongue tying itself in knots, refusing to say what he wanted. Not now, please let me do this right.  
"I'm sorry," he blurted, digging his fingers into his flesh, relishing in the pain because it gave him something to concentrate on besides his chaotic emotions. I hurt her. I, who was supposed to protect her.  
"I never meant to hurt you. Akane, I never wanted to hurt you," he cried, tears streaking down his face, "I didn't mean for it to happen. Please believe me. Please. I didn't want to hurt you." I didn't. I didn't. Please believe me, Akane.  
  
~~*~~  
  
She returned his kiss passionately, deeply. Holding her close, he felt the warmth of her body beneath him, conforming to his. Passion and desire swept him away. He wanted her, more than anything else he wanted her, desired to love her completely. His love and desire so long denied pushed him over the edge. His lips found her jaw, the smooth skin of her warm, graceful neck.  
Urgently his hands moved over her body as he laid her gently on the ground. He caressed her full body, feeling the smooth, rounded curves, the soft, warm flesh. He undid her blouse, his hands fumbling with her bra for a moment and than shoving it aside as his hands sought her bared breasts. He did not care anymore. He wanted her, fully and completely.  
So caught up in her body, he did not remember removing his clothes, but he could feel his skin pressed against her bare chest. Her touch burned like fire through his body. Oh, gods how he wanted her, needed her touch and love.  
Fiercely kissing her, he pulled at her jeans and underwear, pushing them off her hips. Ignoring her hands pushing against his shoulders, her body struggling beneath him, he kicked them off from around her legs. His lips drank in her sweet taste, her warmth and heat.  
He heard her soft cries beneath her, but he was beyond caring. He wanted her. He kissed her again and again, his hips pushing her legs farther apart.  
  
~~*~~  
  
"Oh, gods Akane," he sobbed, "I never wanted to hurt you. I couldn't control myself. I couldn't. You've gotta believe me."  
  
~~*~~  
  
He penetrated her. Her body went rigid beneath him, her cry of pain echoed in his ears, but failed to register as his burning passion carried him forward with the momentum of a landslide.  
  
~~*~~  
  
"I don't know what to say. Dammit! I don't know how to make you feel better with words. I can't change the past. Gods, I want to so bad. I wanna take away the hurt, make it all better, but I can't! I can't!"   
He was silent for a moment as tears fell down his cheeks to splash into his white, silk shirt. "I can only make amends," he whispered.  
He reached down in front of him and opened the wooden case. From it he removed an object wrapped in a white silk ribbon. The ribbon slid off the object revealing the gleaming blade of a tanto that his father had kept since leaving Nodoka.  
The blade gleamed brightly, reflecting the light like the tears that had streaked Akane's face. He had hurt her too much. This was the only way out of his grief and guilt, the only way to make everything perfect once again.  
He rested the blade between his third and forth rib, the point pressing into his skin, a small trickle of blood running from the small wound. It would be quick, painless, and irreversible. There was no possible way he could be saved from a thrust to the heart.   
It was now or never. He had to do it.  
Looking up, he gazed at her one last time. The dark hair cut short to curl around the beautiful porcelain neck. She was so much like a China doll, and he had broken her with his clumsy hands. He had cherished that China doll, protected it, kept it safe as he admired the beauty and strength that resided in her. He wished she would turn to face him, so he could see her face one last time. So his last memory of her would not be the tear-streaked accusation that haunted his dreams.  
  
~~*~~  
  
Spent, he collapsed on top of her, his breathing heavy, his passion sated, his body content. Realization slowly dawned on him now that his emotions weren't in control. What have I done? His eyes were drawn to her face. It was turned to the side, her eyes closed, tears wetting her flushed cheeks. No, no, no, no!   
  
~~*~~  
  
"I'm sorry," he whispered, "I'm so sorry I raped you. I give my life in exchange."   
I'm so sorry, Akane. Forgive me.  
  
~~*~~  
  
"No!" he screamed. I raped her. I raped. Oh, no. Anything but that. "I didn't mean it. I didn't," he cried out, pushing away from her, stumbling to his feet. Fear and guilt pulsed through him. Crying out once, he turned and ran from her, leaving her alone in the forest.  
  
~~*~~  
  
He lifted the tanto and slammed it towards his waiting heart.  
  
~~*~~  
  
When Ranma had entered her room, Akane had nearly physically thrown him out of it. She had no desire to see him. He had hurt her and insulted her beyond anything he had ever done. How dare he show his face to me? That was her first thought.   
When she had returned to the world of the living to have him kissing her, she had been shocked; however, she had started enjoying his ministrations after a time. Though tired, despite the heavy weight on her body, she wanted to be with him for that moment, because she saw his true feelings. She saw the truth he had vehemently denied since the beginning of their tumultuous and competitive relationship. She knew in the back of her mind that she should have pushed him away, but she needed him as much as he did her. He had almost been killed by that beast. She had been so scared. So she let him carry her away.  
She had almost stopped him when he had removed her shirt and bra, but the play of his hands across her body, the tingling electric jolts they had brought, had silenced her doubts. Instead she had started pulling at his clothes, kissing him back. The rest had been a mass of conflicting emotions. Her body had wanted him completely, but her mind had kept on warning her and telling her that it was wrong, that she needed rest, that she should wait.   
Akane struggled a bit when Ranma removed her jeans, but she was lost in her own emotions, her own love for him, a love she had never thought he would share. The pain was brief, flitting and intense. Her voice cried out as her body involuntarily stiffened in shock, but then the pleasure exploded within her senses. Intense beyond words, leaving her gasping and struggling for breath and sight, lost in the melodies bursting through her veins like a symphony's endless crescendo.   
Afterwards she lay content and happy in his arms.  
But then he started screaming, denying everything with a voice choked with fear. He ran from her in a blind panic. Leaving her alone, the with the exhaustion, the confusion, the decaying pleasure and love.  
His denial had crushed her happiness, leaving her humiliated. Shame and horror had filled her. Used, she had been used, was the only thought that had shot through her mind.   
Attempting to follow him had only left her huddled on the ground crying in weakness for several hours before she could muster the strength to make it back to the camp and then the train station.   
Rage had consumed her. At that moment, and for the entire trip home, she had truly hated Ranma for the first time in her life. In truth she still barely remembered what had happened. Only being hit, the darkness that followed and her intimate moment with Ranma. And now he refused to talk to her, and she did not want to hear from him. Let the bastard suffer.  
For the last week she had avoided him completely, not even talking to him. Never going to the table if he was there, which luckily had been only once or twice. At school she had refused to even mention his name to anyone, and stormed away from any who talked about him.  
Yet when he entered her room, something stopped her from sending him packing. She had known he had been standing outside her door for nearly a quarter of an hour. Her curiosity was such that she could not turn him away without at least hearing what he had to say. So she relented and let him stay for the moment.  
After a long silence, he closed the door and knelt on the floor. She heard him place an object on the floor also, but she did not turn to face him. That would be too much like forgiving him. She would not acknowledge his presence. Let him suffer.  
Eventually he began to speak. His words were poorly chosen, but the emotion he put behind them showed his sincerity. It had caught her by surprise when he apologized. More so was the emotion which caught at her heart. It was almost unbearable to hear the anguish in his voice. He had obviously been suffering through the entire week.   
Things began to click in her mind. She had been avoiding him, but almost no one had seen him in the past several days. He had withdrawn into himself. She had heard their parents' and her sisters' worried comments, but ignored them in her anger. She did not care if he was in trouble. Now she realized it had been his actions that had brought that down. He was truly sorry, and that fact soothed her anger like a balm does a burn.  
Despite her soothed hostility, she did not interrupt him. She let him continue. She listened to his words, enjoying the torment he was putting himself through, but slowly she became worried. He began ranting about not being able to be forgiven, and then the only way to make amends. Fear entered her heart. Something was wrong her, but she did not know what.  
Then he spoke the words that would burn in her heart as a testament of his love for her, a reminder of what can happen from an insignificant misunderstanding. "I'm so sorry I raped you. I give my life in exchange."  
It was a barely audible whisper, but it stopped her heart. Clarity sliced the fog of martyrdom and injured pride. Everything snapped into place. Oh no, he thinks he forced me. No. "Noooo!" she screamed, turning around on the bed. She saw the gleam of a blade descending and flung herself forward lashing out. Pain flared in her arm and then she hit Ranma's body, sending both of them tumbling to the floor. She heard his cry of pain, and terror filled her heart.  
Pushing herself up, she looked at him. His eyes were open, staring at her.   
He was alive.   
  
~~*~~  
  
He heard her cry out to him, but the tanto was already descending. Then her body slammed into his, the sharp blade was deflected and missed his heart to stab deeply into his abdomen. Pain flared in his body, and he cried out as he felt the blade slice through his flesh, digging deeply and then tearing more as his arm was jolted when he hit the ground, wrenching the tanto in his gored abdomen.  
His eyes snapped open, to see Akane on top of him, her eyes filled with fear. "Why did you stop me?" he asked in a strained voice. It hurt to breathe, and his side was throbbing.  
Anger flashed in her eyes, "Ranma no baka!" she shouted, "How could you even think you raped me? I'd never let you. I wanted to be with you. I ripped off your clothes, don't you remember, baka?"  
He simple stared at her stunned, his mouth moving soundlessly. Pain, shock, and her words were making it impossible for him to think, to rationalize what was going on. Finally he could only resort to defending his position, "You were struggling, crying out. You screamed when I...when I...took you. You were crying afterwards."  
Her face softened. She shook her head gently. "It only hurt for a second, Ranma. It was wonderful. I was so happy, so very happy. That's why I was crying. I thought you loved me. But you ran away, denying everything. What was I supposed to think? You hurt me. I thought you had used me."  
"No," Ranma muttered, watching the tears fall from her eyes, "My fault, all my fault." He was numb and was having trouble connecting thoughts together. "Should've stayed, talked to you. I jumped to conclusions. So sorry, Akane. So sorry."   
He was tired, his eyes slipped shut for a second, before he snapped them open. "Never wanted to hurt you. I love you. Yes, love you." His eyes lost their focus and began wandering the room aimlessly.  
Akane knew something was wrong. Gods, the tanto. She shifted on him, trying to get up, but accidentally hit the knife, causing it to cut farther along the already gapping wound. Ranma cried out in pain as the blade shifted, his eyes snapping back into focus.   
Akane was next to him looking at his side, horror on her face. Fumbling, he reached for the hilt and finally found it. It was slick with his blood, but he grasped it tightly and yanked. A white wave of intense pain washed over him, causing him to scream.  
His scream jolted Akane from her shock. She took one look at him and began searching the room frantically for a bandage. His white shirt was soaked in blood, along with the pants around his hips. Blood was pooling around his side, a dark stain on the floor.   
Finally she grabbed a shirt and rushed back over to him and shoved it into the gash in his left side. "You need a doctor, Ranma."  
He nodded at her suggestion, but was looking at her. He noticed the blood painted across her forearm, seething slowly from a delicate slash along her arm. Already confused and weak, he said the first thing that came to his mind. "You're hurt," he stated touching her arm, "Better take care of that."  
"I'll be fine," she shouted, her voice filled with worry. From outside Akane's room, Ranma heard people shouting questions. He tried to answer them but nothing came out.  
"Call an ambulance," Akane shouted, terror stricken. The flow of blood was slowing, but Akane knew he had lost a lot. The shirt she had been using was thoroughly soaked in it.   
Looking down at him, Akane became terrified as she saw the glazed expression in his eyes. "Stay with me, Ranma," she cried ignoring the questions from outside her door, "Why do you always have to do stupid things? Why couldn't you just talk to me? I would've listened."  
He was tired, but he looked at her when she spoke to him, and shook his head. "Thought I hurt you," his voice was slow and distant in his own ears, "Thought I ruined your life. Couldn't live with that. Couldn't live with it. This only way."  
"Baka, don't you ever think?" she wasn't shouting anymore, she was too busy crying, but she had to keep him talking.  
He smiled. "No, I don't." He was so tired, if he could just sleep for awhile. His eyes slipped shut, but snapped open when Akane yelled his name.  
"Hold on, damn it!" she raged, "I'm not losing you because of your own stupidity."  
"I will," he promised weakly.  
She pulled him against her, rocking his body gently. She told him it would be all right, that everything would be perfect from now on. He tried to concentrate on her words, but it was so hard. He was tired. His body was numb. Slowly he slipped into darkness, the sound of sirens sending him off.  
She heard the ambulance just as Ranma went limp in her arms. With a low cry of grief, she stumbled to her feet, Ranma cradled in her arms, and rushed from the room. Kicking the door to splinters, she rushed past her family and headed downstairs and outside to the waiting ambulance.  
Begging Ranma to stay with her, she helped them place him on the gurney, and then followed him into the ambulance when they noticed the cut on her arm. She wanted to be with him, and so sat down next to him, and held his limp hand tightly all the way to the hospital.   
  
~~*~~  
  
Blinking he opened his eyes to a well lit room with sterile coloring. He turned his head to the side and groaned as a headache formed behind his eye. His side also hurt, it was stiff, uncomfortable, and itched worse than a rash.  
"Where am I?" he asked of no one in particular.  
"Ranma!" Akane's voice filled the room, "I'm so glad you are awake. I've been so worried about you." She was beside his bed an instant later, anxiously checking him over. After a cursory inspection, she was satisfied he was fine. Then she let loose. "Why on earth did you think seppuku was the only answer?! Y-you insensitive, hard headed baka!"  
Memories flooded back into his mind. The demon's attack, what had happened after, the week of pure hell for him, his final decision, and the truth Akane had told him. Stupid. Why do you always overreact?   
"I didn't think." It was a lame answer, but it was the only one he could conjure at the moment. He turned to look at Akane. She was leaning over him, a chair was pulled close to his bed. Her eyes were bloodshot and puffy, as if she had been crying. Reaching out she gently stroked his forehead. Her arm was bandaged and he realized it must be because of the tanto.  
Touching the bandage, he said, "I'm sorry. I hurt you again, didn't I? I'm sorry. The tanto was for me."  
He didn't even see her move, but her hand cracked across his face. "Baka!" she shouted at him, her eyes flashing in anger and, confusingly, fear, "Stop it, just stop it! You always put me above yourself. You're going to kill yourself, just like you almost did yesterday. I don't want to lose you. I never want to lose you.  
"Don't you understand that losing you would hurt me worse than any injury I can take? I don't want you to die for me, Ranma. I want you to be alive for me. Can't you understand that?" Her voice had dropped to a conversational volume, but it was filled with worry and sorrow.  
Chastised. Ranma dropped his gaze from hers and gently rubbed his stinging cheek. She was right. Protecting her had become a habit, but more than that, it had been the only way he could express his true feelings without actually admitting them. He knew he would trade his life for hers in an instant, no doubt, no second thoughts. It had never crossed his mind that she might be hurt by his death.   
Does she really love me? Does she love me that much? It was a sobering thought, and a very frightening one.   
He turned his eyes back on her. "I'm sorry, Akane," he said softly. How do I tell her? How do I explain? "It's just I don't want you hurt. Death is a fair price for your safety," he stopped and watched her. Yes, I guess I do love her. "I care for you, Akane," Just tell her, get it over with. "I...I love you." It was said in a whisper, but it still had the right effect.   
Akane's eyes went wide and then filled with a sublime joy as she smiled at him. She really was beautiful. He reached up and touched her face gently.  
He understood he had been given a second chance with her. They had both been given another chance. This time he would do it right. No fights, no misunderstandings. They would start over and see where it would eventually lead them.  
Before Akane regained her senses, he slowly brought her down to him and kissed her gently. For the first time in a long time he was at peace. He was happy. He was content.  
"Ranma, I love you," Akane breathed softly into his mouth. He simply kissed her harder, pulling her into him. It was a start. He had almost lost her. She had almost lost him.   
Never again, they silently promised themselves.  
  
Revised Author's Notes:  
  
As many of you will notice there are slight differences in this one, than in the original. Mostly, I changed the action slightly. You will also notice that I have progressed the seasons forward. Whereas the original started in Spring, this one starts 18 months after Ranma first came to Nerima, so it is early August, just before the beginning of school break for the summer. I am changing things around to suit my purposes and the purposes of this story so that I can fit things in much more neatly. Nodoka still knows nothing about her son's curse, or that he is even alive at the moment. OK, she knows he is alive, but that will be explained later. Some of the other changes you will notice as time goes on as well, but I will not ruin the surprise for you until the very point where it needs to be ruined. There will be some added scenes, for those who have read the series, and a little more character development.  
So why am I rewriting this? Mainly, because I want to change the seasons to the proper ones, but also because I need to work on the next parts and think a rework will fill up the time so I can get ahead again; besides I am very busy with my novella for Section 9 Anime Review Magazine. I have deadlines now, so fanfiction takes a back burner, but I will be working on MASN as I go, so hold out hope, this series will be finished, or I will die trying!   
Oh, one more thing. I have heard comments about the quick fix for Ranma and Akane's relationship that I use in this first opart. From being called contrived to very touching, some people still think that it takes the whole point of ranma 1/2 out of the story, the developing romance. I can understand that. In many fanfictions I agree with that point, but you must remember that MASN is not about Takahashi's Ranma. This is more about how i view the motivations behind the characters. By definition, a drama needs a serious story base. If I did not change the relationship, I would not hve the base I needed to work from. I can write MASN about Ranma and Akane struggling to be together and dicovering their love, but this is Honour Love and Hate. THe words are there for a reason. Each represents a motivation for one of Ranma's cast. Sure it is a simplified view, but then again, is it really? The complexity involved in even three motivations becomes a labyrinthine after two turns and a single backtrack.   
This is not comedy. I swear to god this is not comedy. Thuis is reality. This is life. Death, loss, pain, happiness, revenge, and setbacks are common. Do not expect anything overly happy, or anthing that is a satisfactory ending. Rela life only ends when you die, and even that is not certain.  
Many have read this series up to the incomplete point at the moment, and they know what lies ahead. I would suggest to all those that are reading this for the first time, do not go check out my webpage. The parts will change slightly as I go along, and this will bem out every two weeks, so I won't keep suspense running too long.  
Now on to the original Author's notes:  
  
Author's Notes:  
  
This is the first Chapter in a series entitled Meiyo Ai soshite Nikushimi. This translates as Honour, Love, and Hate. (To any language nitpickers, I know "soshite" is used wrong, it should be "to", but since I found that out after being half finished with ch 3 and I think MASN sounds better than MATN, I left it alone.)  
This first chapter was actually intended as a stand alone fic. The idea originally came from two places. One was the fanfic "It's 11:00" by Suds-kun, the other is from a scene in Robert Jordan's "Crown of Swords". Well, synergy happened and this fic was the result. Anyway, I thought there were several places this could go so I continued to write and MASN has come about because of it.  
MASN is, by my definition, a continuation fanfic. It takes place a year and a half after Ranma first came to live with the Tendou's. For your information, as far as this story is concerned, nothing has ever been resolved between the characters. Ranma never fought Saffron, he never got back together with his mom and the failed wedding attempt never happened. So Chapter One is actually the first time he admits his love for Akane and vice versa, well admits it and actually doesn't retract the admission in a heart beat.  
From this first Chapter you might get a feel for the way MASN will run. This is not comedy and there will be very few humorous sections. Mostly because I'm not a comedy writer and the fact that I like humor in small doses, used subtly. This is a drama with tragic undertones, although it is not really a tragedy. I deal with the characters on a real life basis, at least in their thinking and many of the problems they will face. Some of the sections will be dark fics, some sad fics, others will just be serious and a few will be light hearted and cheerful.   
Along with MASN will be running a second fanfiction set. This is called the Shrouded Paths. (note from the present, I do not know if I will ever do this series, I have a few ideas, but they are only ideas) It is a collection of stand alone works that explore the characters by taking events in MASN and showing what might have happened. I will try and post these along with the chapter they correspond to.  
That is all I wish to speak of at the moment.  
Until Next time  
Joseph A. Kohle  
  
---*----*----*----*----*----*----*----*----*---  
All rights and privileges to Ranma Nibunnoichi   
belong to Rumiko Takahashi. The characters of   
Her series are used without her permission for   
the purpose of entertainment only. This work of   
fiction is not meant for sale or profit.   
  
All original characters are the creation of the  
author. All copyright privileges to these chara-  
cters are reserved for the author.  
  
This story is a product of the author's hard work   
and imagination. Do not modify, add to, or make   
use of any part of this work without the author's   
knowledge and consent. Please feel free to archive   
this work.   
  
Comments and criticism are welcome.   
Written by Joseph A. Kohle, (c) January 1997.  
Revised by Joseph A. Kohle. (c) September 1999.   
Send all comments to jakohle@worldnet.att.net  
http://www.geocities.com/Tokyo/Flats/6184/ 


	3. Vol 1 Chap 2

DISCLAIMER: Ranma Nibunnoichi is the property of Takahashi Rumiko, Shogakukan Inc., Shonen Sunday Comics, and Viz Video. It is used without their permission, and it is not intended for profit but only for the enjoyment of fans of the Ranma series. All characters within this fic that are not the property of the above mentioned are copyrighted to the author, Joseph Kohle, January 1997. This work of fiction is the result of the author's hard work and is for the enjoyment of others. Please do not change, modify, or use any segment of this story without the author's knowing and written consent. Feel free to archive this work.  
  
Meiyo Ai soshite Nikushimi is a dramatic tragedy. As the title translates, it is all about honour, love, and hate and the extremes people will go to satisfy their needs in those situations. Insaity, pain, grief, heartache, joy, bliss, loss, sorrow, contenment, selfishness, and a thousand other human emotions vie in their realities. People die, bad things happen, and life and its consequences are more apparent and effectual than in the Ranma 1/2 series. But there is also hope, love, and friendship.  
  
It is real life, and that is my only warning.  
  
************************************************************************   
  
Meiyo Ai soshite Nikushimi  
  
A Ranma Nibunnoichi Fanfic  
by: Joseph Kohle  
  
Part I: The Step Beyond   
Chapter II Through a New Door  
  
~ 1 ~   
  
Ranma winced as the doctor prodded his side. Lifting his head, he glanced down at his stomach. An angry, puckered, red gash followed the line of his rib cage from almost the center of his chest to the side of his abdomen. Around two dozen staples sutured the wound. On top of this he could feel the stiffness from countless other stitches knitting his internal organs together.  
The doctor, Tenmatsu, was being gentle, his thin hands softly probing Ranma's flesh. Thankful for the small kindness, Ranma watched the doctor work. At the moment, he was absorbed in his work. His dark eyes remained intent on his patient. Absently, he brushed an errant lock of dark hair from out of his eyes before pressing firmly against the wound.  
Ranma involuntarily gasped at the pain. His side still hurt on a regular basis, but this pain was stronger than it had been all day.  
"Hmm . . . " Tenmatsu-sensei mumbled.  
"What?" Ranma asked through clenched teeth. He hated being incapacitated, and he despised being treated as if he were weak. Sure, he might have almost died, but he was healing rapidly. It was only a matter of days before he could return to a semi-normal routine. He did not need this attention.  
"You're a lucky young man," Tenmatsu observed empathically, as he covered Ranma back up. "I don't know how you did it, but that knife nearly completely severed an artery. That's why you lost so much blood. Also the fact that it sliced through the upper abdominal muscles and cut your large intestine did not help anything. Most people would have died from the amount of blood you lost. Like I said, you were lucky."   
Ranma shrugged his shoulders as if the comment was expected.  
"I want you to stay off of your feet for a few days. Give your body a chance to heal. Even though Dr. Toufu says you are able to go home. I still think you should stay here an extra day or two." He looked at Ranma pleadingly, but Ranma pointedly ignored the look. Instead he turned his attention to Akane, who was sitting across from his bed.  
Sighing in defeat Tenmatsu-sensei checked off a few things on Ranma's chart. "Don't tell me I didn't warn you though," he said and left the room, the door closing silently behind him, and then latching.  
"You could've been nicer to him, Ranma," Akane said, sliding her chair closer to his bed.  
"What did I do?" Ranma demanded irritably.   
"You ignored him, and kept looking at him like he was wasting your time," she explained evenly, trying to keep her temper despite Ranma's stubbornness, "He's only trying to help you."  
Sighing, Ranma sank back into his pillows in defeat. He was not up to an argument, and he knew Akane was right. "I know he is, but I hate being in a hospital. Besides Toufu-sensei said I could go home."  
Shaking her head, Akane decided to change the subject. Like Ranma she did not want an argument. They had not had one since he had woken up two days ago, and she was not in a hurry to start. Ranma had promised her that he would try and be more reasonable, and she had promised to listen to him before she hit him with something. Really those two things were the single biggest cause of their skirmishes.  
"Have you decided what we are going to tell our parents?" she asked. It was obvious to both of them that the truth was too dangerous to tell anyone. First of all, a forced marriage was a certainty if Akane's father learned that she was no longer a virgin. Secondly, Ranma had enough problems with his other fiances and people in school without having it be common knowledge that he had tried to kill himself, especially over a misunderstanding.  
"We can't say it was all a dream, can we?" Ranma suggested. Akane gave him a cold stare. "I guess not."  
Suddenly Ranma's eyes lit up and a mischievous grin spread across his face. "We're so blind!"  
"What?" Akane asked apprehensively. She didn't like that look in Ranma's eyes.  
"Well it is really simple. I'm amazed you didn't see it first."  
"Ranma!" Akane growled.  
"I mean it has to be believable," His eyes glittered, and he leaned closer to Akane, his lips scant inches from her cheek. "You . . ."  
"Yes?" His hot breath distracted her, igniting a small blush in her cheeks.  
His lips nipped at her own. A delicious thrill ran through her body for a moment, dulling Ranma's next statement.  
"Attacked me with a knife."  
He was on the other side of the bed, laughing before she could react.  
"Ranma!" Akane stormed. She wasn't mad. Ranma's laughing gaze, and his bright smile, told her it was a joke. But, he was not getting off that easily. She would get her revenge.   
Smiling, Akane leaned forward. "Ranma?" Her hand caressed the pillow beside his head, her fingers gently sweeping across his ear.  
"Yes?" He waited for it, but enjoyed the play.  
"I'm not taking the blame for this, Ranma," Akane stated evenly.  
Her fingers clenched, and suddenly Ranma had no pillow, as it flew into the air and crashed against his face, muffling his startled exclamation.  
Clawing the pillow away, Ranma and Akane broke into smiles, their enjoyment bubbling underneath the surface. Silence enveloped about them, leaving only the comfortable moment.   
Both new the test had been passed with flying colours. They were having fun, and enjoying the moment, despite the weight hanging above them. Maybe there was a chance.  
Akane shook away the serenity first, realizing that they only had a little while before their fathers returned. Sighing, Akane retreated to the original plan. "Why can't it just be a training accident?"  
Ranma shook his head. This was probably going to lead to an argument. "We weren't talking the whole week before," Ranma reasoned, "No one's going to believe we were training in your room."  
"Do you have a better idea?" Akane snapped back. The situation grated against her nerves. They were accomplishing nothing. "If you do than give it to me, Ranma. I know this is flimsy. But what else do we have?"  
"Ah . . . I, ah" he began, and then stopped, a look of confusion crossing his face. Throwing up his hands in defeat, he burrowed into his pillows even deeper. "Why do you have to be right so often?" he muttered.   
She directed a smile at him. "Oh, c'mon. I'll let you win the next time." Ranma flashed her a dirty look, but it did not last very long. He was finding it harder and harder to stay angry with Akane when she smiled at him. Somehow, she had discovered that chink in his defensive wall and was exploiting it ruthlessly. It did not matter to Ranma. He would find her weakness soon enough.  
His face softening, Ranma smiled back at her. It was nice sitting, well, actually lying while she sat next to him, and talking like civilized people for once. They had discussed a lot since yesterday. Most of it revolved around their relationship, trying to find some sort of neutral ground from which they could work.  
Both of them had realized and accepted that the problems in their relationship were not the other one's fault entirely; although, Akane was still adamant on the fact that if he had told her about the curse in the first place, they might have started on better terms. Realizing it was futile to argue, and with an understanding that it was only a small thing, Ranma let her have that point. There were other points that were just as big, like her seemingly endless ability to jump to the wrong conclusions. He had also made her promise to stay away from weapons and heavy objects when they were fighting.  
That did not come without a price though. He had to avoid his other fiancees as much as possible. Personally, Ranma considered that unfair. It was not his fault that they chased him. What was he supposed to do, lock himself in the basement? Akane actually had the gall to consider that idea for a brief moment before relenting and only stipulating that he not seek them out, and that he get rid of them as fast as possible when they found him.  
One thing they had not discussed was his mouth. Ranma was thankful for that boon. He knew that he often spoke without thinking, resulting in the hurt feelings of the people he cared for or the major misunderstandings and problems that plagued him. Really, he did not want to hurt people, but he just always seemed to say the wrong thing at the wrong time to the wrong person. Instead he had promised himself, at least around Akane, to watch what he said. It was hard. It had taken all of his control not to lash out at her during their discussion on the alibi.  
Sighing, Ranma turned to watch the wall. Was it possible for them to put it all behind? To go on like nothing had happened? Truthfully he did not know. He wanted it to be true. He would do everything he could do to make it true, but somehow he knew how small of a chance they actually had. But he was not going to let it discourage him. There was a chance, small though it may be. At one point, something had to go right in his life, and he wanted this to be the thing that did.  
"What are you thinking about?" Akane asked him.  
"How hard this is going to be, for us both," he said absently, still thinking of their relationship.  
"Mmm-hmm," Akane agreed, "But it is the easiest way to explain your injury."  
Confused, Ranma snapped his attention over to her and just nodded as she smiled at him. Why burden her with his depressing thoughts? Let her be happy for a while. She deserved it. Ranma just wished someone would decide he deserved a little happiness in his life.  
The next half-hour blurred as they hurriedly flushed out the details of the story, much to Ranma's chagrin. But as Akane had said, it was the easiest way.   
It was a fairly simple alibi. Ranma had accepted a challenge to fight another martial artist with blade weapons, and since he knew nothing about kendo, he had gone to Akane who had studied the art when she was younger.  
They had been practicing with a real tanto so he could get used to moving with a weapon in his hand and because they had not been able to find a wooden facsimile. As usual they had erupted into an argument, neither one took the blame for starting it, but everyone was so used to their arguments that who started it was a moot point.  
Exasperated, Ranma had turned and left the room, only to tangle himself in a pile of clothes. Since he was not used to a weapon in his hand, he did not know how to react, and so reacted like he always did, and rolled with the fall. This had the unfortunate side-effect of slamming the tanto into his body, and ripping the wound open as he rolled.   
It was simple and straight forward.  
The story was also as believable as free property in Tokyo. He knew it. Akane knew it. Kunou would be able to see past the fabricated fable.   
And Nabiki? She'd eat it for lunch.   
The facts were indisputable. Why would he practice with a tanto instead of a bokken? Besides why would he be practicing with weapons anyway? His martial arts were refined enough that disarming an opponent was easier than fighting with weapons himself. That and the fact that the story made him look like a complete incompetent did not make it any easier for him to swallow.  
It just wasn't fair, he decided finally. Life had a grudge against him.  
Surprisingly, the story was received with few questions, although Ranma saw Nabiki's unsatisfied expression. Nabiki had a nose for when things did not sound right, and Ranma knew this reeked worse than a fish wharf. Luckily, Nabiki either forgot to press the issue, or was not too interested in the actual story. Ranma really did not care for the explanation. If Nabiki was unsatisfied, she kept quiet about it, which suited Ranma perfectly. There were other problems he had to deal with, like his father.  
During the entire time Akane and himself had related the story, Genma's expression had darkened like approaching thunder clouds. Finally, as the last words were spoken, and silence descended on the room, the storm broke. "Boy, do you have any common sense?" Genma thundered, "And I thought I trained you well. But no! You've gotta do something idiotic like this."  
Grumbling he turned away, but did not even reach the far side of the bed before striking like lightning. His hands grabbed Ranma by the collar and hauled his son's face within inches of his own. "Is your training slipping? It must be. A four-year-old would've handled that fall better."   
It took Ranma's entire being to control his instinct to fight back. Only Akane's intervention saved Genma.  
"Put him down!" Akane snapped, slamming her fist into Genma's kidney. Grunting, Ranma's father loosened his hold on Ranma. "Do you want to open his wound again? For kami's sake, have you no decency? He is your son, and he is still injured!"  
The room stilled, and then Genma nodded, turning away from Ranma and Akane both. Releasing his grip, he stepped back from the bed.   
"From the moment you get home, Boy," Genma stated, "Till the moment I see some improvement, I'll run you ragged, train you into the ground. You're going to find out how many separate muscles you've got in that body because every single one'll be sore when I'm through with you."  
"Nearly killing yourself on a pile of clothes," Genma muttered, turning away from his son and walking out of the room. "That's not right. That's disgraceful."   
Stung and hurt by his father's words, Ranma sank deep into his pillows. Maybe if he told him the truth, he'd go easier. At least then, Ranma figured, he would have done something honorable, but a quick glance at Akane's pained and sorrowful expression stopped him from speaking out in his defense. The fact that she felt sorrow for him made it easier to bear. Somehow he knew she was going to be extra nice around him for a few days, and that made his father's tongue fade into the past.  
The others were a little more supportive of him. Kasumi simply commented on how happy she was that he was going to be okay. Soun of course wept over him and left without a comment. Surprisingly Nabiki was fairly quiet, only offering words similar to Kasumi's. This all suited Ranma perfectly, who did not need or want too much attention. It was bad enough dealing with his father's scorn, and the humiliation this story was going to spawn when it reached school. The price of his stupidity he figured. For some reason he seemed to paying that more often these days.  
"C'mon, how bad could it be?" Akane asked when they were alone again.  
"We're talking about Oyaji," Ranma stated glumly, "Training me is his one and only goal in life. This is going to be very bad." Akane patted his hand reassuringly, but it did not help. Ranma was dreading going home now. Maybe he should take that doctor's advice and stay longer.  
  
~ 2 ~   
  
Nabiki listened outside Ranma's hospital room for a few minutes before silently slipping away. Nothing, absolutely nothing. She had been sure that the two would have let down their guards after the family left, but obviously Ranma and Akane were not taking any chances.  
The entire situation infuriated Nabiki to no end. There was money to be made here. It was sitting right in front of her. She just could not reach it. She despised not having all the facts. Ranma was in the hospital for a reason. And it was not a training accident.  
Nabiki grimaced in disgust as she walked past the nurse station.  
It was more unbelievable than campaign promises and had holes in it large enough for Kunou's ego to pass through comfortably. But the problem was that she had no leverage to get the real story. Something had happened in her sister's room, something very drastic, but for the life of her she was unable to figure it out.  
She stopped in front of the elevator bank and stabbed the down button in frustration.  
There were too many conflicting points to the whole situation. Before Ranma had gone to the hospital, Ranma and his fiancee had not spoken a single word to each other. Like petulant siblings they avoided each other constantly. At school, Akane did not speak of him. And Ranma had not even deigned to attend class to escape Akane.   
Akane had growled in anger every time Ranma's name was mentioned, and if it involved her name with his, the resulting display was on the edge of being a form of art. Furthermore, Ranma had literally disappeared that entire week. There had been only two meals that he had come to, one the morning he had gone to the hospital, the other a dinner in the middle of the week. At each event, Ranma had been quiet and eaten slowly for once in his life. He had spoken nothing to any member of the family and simply disappeared afterwards.   
The elevator buzzed as it hit the floor and the door slid opened. It was empty, much to Nabiki's relief. Stepping aboard she pushed the button for the lobby. God she wished figuring out Ranma was as easy as choosing a floor.  
Nabiki was not even sure if he had even slept at the house, she certainly hadn't been able to find him when she wanted to get a few pictures.   
And the next thing she knew, he was in the hospital, apparently stabbed by a tanto.  
At first Nabiki had thought Akane might have attacked him in a fit of anger, but she dismissed that as the evidence began to gather. She had been in the room next to her sister's when the entire thing happened, and she remembered nothing that sounded like a fight. Actually, it had been fairly quiet until Akane had screamed and then Ranma's scream of pain a heartbeat later.  
So if Akane had done nothing, then the blame fell to Ranma by default. Yet what could he have done? Maybe it really was a training accident. She shook her head in denial. That was not possible, Ranma was too good for that, besides she had never seen him practice with a weapon, yet whenever he picked one up he was as proficient with it as if he had been born to the thing. No, it was not an accident. There had been something deliberate about what had happened. It had the feel of something that had gone wrong like . . . well she didn't know and that was what frustrated her.   
The elevator slowed, and the door opened revealing the bright lobby. Stepping off the elevator, Nabiki followed the signs toward the outpatient entrance to the hospital. Kasumi and the others would be waiting for her there. Absently she paid attention to signs, but really her mind was dwelling on several days ago.  
She had listened at the door when Ranma had first been stabilized. Akane was inside with him, talking underneath her breath, crying softly. Most of the words were blurred by the door and Akane's soft, sobbing whispers as Nabiki sat outside, hoping to uncover a small morsel to whet her appetite. For thirty minutes she sat patiently and listened, and the only clue that flitted through was near the end when Akane exploded briefly. "Baka," Akane suddenly snapped in a voice filled with anger and grief, "Why did you do this? Don't you ever think? You didn't hurt me. You never have . . . " The rest retreated into nonsense as Akane began crying again.  
Was it possible that Ranma had meant to injure himself? It didn't seem like the Ranma she knew. He was always so confident and easy going about life, but if the circumstances were right . . .   
But what circumstances could ever be that right?   
The training trip? No one knew what had happened there, only that they had returned separately. He could have insulted or hurt Akane.  
But if he had, why was her sister protecting him?   
Massaging her temples to relieve the strain, Nabiki halted in the bright corridor, a few patients walking around her.  
Could Ranma have somehow hurt Akane?   
The sudden thought froze her. Was it possible? Could Ranma have tried to enact some atonement in one of his drastic and ill-thought out ideas?  
A small crowd of doctors and interns turned the corner, forcing Nabiki to hastily dodge aside. As the group rushed by, Nabiki caught only a few words about a recent operation. But the interruption had already done its damage as she stood in the next corridor.   
The thought of Ranma hurting himself just did not seem plausible anymore. He was terrified of death. Nabiki had only to look as far as Ranma's hidden relationship with his mother.   
Scowling, Nabiki stormed down the corridor, hoping to catch up with her family before they reached the train station.  
Everything was one big enigma, a Rubric's Cube of what ifs and unanswered questions. There was a pattern but she was missing one key element, and she had no clue what it was. But she would. If it killed her, she was going to uncover the very heart of this situation, and then the money would be coming.  
  
~ 3 ~   
  
Pivoting, Ranma spun his body, his foot whipping around to land with a solid thwack against the wooden post. Without pause another kick connected, followed closely by a blizzard of punches. The dojo resounded with the staccato claps of each of his strikes.   
Sweat poured down his face, stinging his eyes, rolling across his cheeks and lips leaving a salty taste on his tongue. Drops fell from his nose and hair with each attack to splatter on the wooden floor. A dull sheen of sweat covered his naked shoulders and chest.  
He was tired. The past few hours had become a blur in his mind. There was only the solid rhythm of his continuous strikes against the unoffending post. He did not care about what he had practiced or what he still had to do. Only the present was important. It required too much energy to think of anything else.   
The constant training had slowly drained him. This was only his second day back from the hospital and he was still recovering from the loss of blood. What did that matter to his father? As long as the story stuck, he suffered unending training to redress his mistake. Oyaji had promised to grind him into the ground, and he was already close to doing it.  
His arms felt like leaden weights, each strike a struggle for the precision and speed that marked his expertise. Dimly he was aware that his form was suffering under his exhaustion. He knew he should end now, but he never gave up. If it killed him, he would finish this sequence.   
So he pushed onward, feeling like he was fighting in a vat of molasses. He simply went through the series. Jab, jab, knife hand, snap kick, roundhouse, backhand, jab, jab, jab, forearm, dropkick, uppercut, flip to gain position . . . on and on it went through his mind, an endless rhythm that he had worked hundreds of times. Each series became harder and harder, until he had taken himself to the limit. With a low growl he launched a final series, unwilling to give in, to let his father beat him down.  
Jab, jab, knife hand . . . I didn't do anything wrong . . . snap kick, roundhouse . . . It's just that stupid story . . . backhand, jab, jab . . . if I was able to tell him the truth I could be relaxing . . . jab, forearm . . . he has no right to punish me . . . dropkick . . . why'd I go along with Akane? . . . uppercut, flip back to position . . . why do I suffer!? . . . spin kick, snapkick . . . why does life treat me like this? . . . jab, spin, backhand . . . it's not fair . . . jab, jab, jab, jab . . . CRAAAACK! The top of the post flew from the rest of the post to slam and stick into the wall. Exhausted Ranma could only drop to his knees and finally lean against the ruined post, his breathing heavy and laboured, his eyes shut.  
Oxygen-starved muscles burned throughout his body. He sucked in air through his mouth, deeply and evenly. Slowly his heart stopped thudding in his chest and resumed its normal pace. Rarely did he have such an intensive training session. Placed on top of his weakened condition, it was amazing that he had survived. Several hours of sparring with his father, jogging before that, kata and combination practices afterwards. The afternoon had disappeared in a blur of sweat and repetition. He only had a vague idea what time it was, and that was only because his stomach was empty and growling.  
He knew he should probably go inside the house. Kasumi was probably already preparing the table.  
His body had other ideas though, it wanted him to stay there. So he did and just relaxed in the dojo, slowly gaining back his strength, as he slipped gently into a dreamless half-sleep.  
Sensing a new presence in the dojo woke Ranma from his rest.  
"Ranma?" Akane's voice was tentative, her step light, barely audible, as she walked across the floor. Ranma opened his eyes. The first thing he noticed was that it was dark outside.  
He yawned and stretched, his muscles tightening painfully for a second before relaxing, leaving him refreshed.   
Next his gaze wandered to Akane, who was walking toward him, almost to him. She was carrying a plate covered with a napkin, the delicious aroma of food reaching Ranma, causing his stomach to grumble in anticipation. Smirking at his reaction, Akane removed the napkin and sat in front of him before beginning to nibble at the food.   
"I'm sorry you missed dinner, Ranma," Akane said in a sorrowful voice, "Kasumi really outdid herself." She stabbed a piece of pork from the full plate with a chopstick and admired it for a moment before taking a bite from it. Chewing quickly, she swallowed it and sighed in pleasure. "Delicious."  
Mouth agape, Ranma stared at his iinazuke. It was obvious she was not going to share the food with him, and was purposefully torturing him with it. What had he done now?  
"Well, I'm full." Akane smiled at him as if nothing was wrong and dropped the half-eaten piece of pork back on the plate and recovered it with the napkin. That was the final straw.  
"Akane," Ranma half-growled, half-pleaded yet it was fully underlaid with dismayed shock. Much to his surprise, Akane started laughing, her eyes sparkling with mirth, and then patted him on the cheek.  
"Oh stop it. Do you think I'm ready to start fighting with you? The food's for you."  
Ranma glared at her, but grabbed the plate and began wolfing down the food. "That's not funny," he mumbled around a mouthful, of rice, "I was starving."  
"Gomen, but I just couldn't resist." She dropped her eyes demurely. "You're not mad, are you?"  
Sighing, he swallowed. "No. I-it's just that I'm tired, Akane. Oyaji is working me ragged, and I'm in no mood for fun right now. A bath and bed sounds better."  
"Oh, and I was going to see if you wanted to go to the new Jackie Chan movie, but if you're too tired . . . " She left it hanging and started to leave.  
"Nani?" Ranma sputtered in shock.  
"The Jackie Chan movie," Akane explained smiling, "I was going to take you to it. You know, kinda make up for all the trouble my story is putting you through. But if you're tired, well that is up to you."  
"No, no, no," Ranma gushed, pushing away the empty plate. Akane was asking him for a date, or something like that. He quickly pinched his arm, a sharp pain confirmed that he was very awake. "Arigato." He smiled tentatively. "I guess I need some fun. You know how the last week and a half's gone."  
"Baka," she said walking away, "It was all your fault, so don't blame me, or look for pity because there's none coming."  
"Really," Ranma shot back, regaining some of his composure, "I seem to be suffering for your story."  
Akane glanced back over her shoulder. "Do you want me to tell the truth?" Ranma shook his head slowly. "Then just be glad I'm not making you take me out."  
Ranma groaned, but before he could think of anything insulting enough to say, Akane had disappeared out the door.   
"Oh, be ready in thirty minutes." Her voice floated back from the yard.   
Muttering under his breath about the unfairness of the gods and violent tomboys, Ranma stood up on stiff legs and walked from the dojo, heading to the house.   
He was seriously tempted to go find Akane and tell her to forget the whole thing. A whole evening of her in this present attitude was not exactly on his list of favorites, but being smashed into the floor by her bokken was high on his list to avoid also, so he would go.   
Resigned to his fate, Ranma plodded into the house and headed to the bathroom. Walking in, he shed his remaining clothes. The furo was already filled with hot water, simply waiting for him. Anxious to take the invitation, Ranma grabbed the soap and sat on the stool. Filling the bucket beside the stool, he emptied the cold water over his body, feeling the familiar change. Ranma-onna scrubbed the dirt and sweat away from her body, her mind still whirling in confusion.  
The fact that Akane had actually asked him out was floating in his head, the implications of the act hovering on the edge of his thoughts like a stalking tiger; however, his exhaustion and own doubts about the whole thing kept the creature at bay.  
He just had one of those feelings like a deer that has been singled out for prey. There was something wrong with this whole thing. He was certain that the night was going to end up as they always did, with him flying through the air with the imprint of Super Deluxe Mallet by Craftsman 'We Make Tools to Last' on his forehead. Of course the entire incident was going to be a misunderstanding, but what could one such as he do? Trouble and strife followed him like a lost puppy.  
"Just spare me tonight, please. I don't need any more problems," he silently pleaded. Sighing Ranma-onna washed the soap and grime from her body. A soft groan rumbled in her throat as she slipped into the comfortable furo. Ranma began to unwind as she slipped back into his true form, the heat of the water relaxing his taut muscles and clearing his mind.  
Thirty minutes later, he was dressed in his normal black pants and red Chinese shirt. He was impatient to get this over with and get some sleep. What was taking her so long? She had said thirty minutes, forty minutes ago.   
There was a small sound from the top of the stairs. Turning, he sucked in his breath in surprise, his eyes wide. Akane was walking down the stairs, smiling at him.   
A frilled black mid-thigh skirt swirled around her legs. She wore a purple sweater vest over a black turtle neck, a gold chain necklace fastened around her neck. The whole effect was stunning.  
Beautiful hardly described what he saw.   
Smiling, Akane walked up to him. He stood, his mind still reeling from the Akane that stood before him. "How do I look?" she asked.   
"Uh . . . uh," he faltered. At that moment he wished he had Kunou's flare for words, since nothing was entering his mind. "You look great."  
It was the best he could find on short notice.  
"Really?" Akane asked, "You think it's fine."  
"Uh, yeah," Ranma said his hand nervously rubbing the back of his neck, "We're only going to a movie." The glare she suddenly gave him could have frozen water.  
"Just going to a movie." Her voice was low and threatening.  
At that moment several things began to connect in Ranma's overworked mind. Their recent discussion in the hospital, the sorrowful look she had given him at his father's proclamation, her bringing food to him, asking him to a movie, and now all of this, Could she want this to be more than an apology? Does she really want this to be a date?  
Carefully, he glanced at her. She'd never worn anything like that before. Maybe this is a real date. The thought was chilling, yet somewhat satisfying. Akane and him on a date together.  
A nervous smile appeared on his face. "Gomen, I . . . I didn't mean it that way. Really, I don't want you to change a thing. Y-you're fine just like that. I'd be glad to go to the movie with you."  
Her expression softening, Akane looked him up and down. "You might like my outfit, but you really should wear something different. Don't you get tired of the same style day after day?"  
"Nani?" Ranma blinked.  
"You're so pathetic! Ah, who cares? You look fine! Just remember, you owe me for not making you change," she explained.  
Ranma, still wondering what was wrong with his clothing, decided it would be best to just get out of the house before anyone found out that they were going on a date. Standing quietly in front of Akane, Ranma tentatively offered his arm. If she wanted a date, he would at least try and make it a decent one. Smiling at his offer, Akane took the offered arm and they both started out for the movie, casting nervous glances at each other.  
  
~ 4 ~   
  
Shampoo was riding back from delivering an order of ramen when she noticed Ranma and Akane walking together down the street, chatting amiably. Although Great-grandmother was expecting her, she was intrigued by this scene and decided to follow them, just in case the violent tomboy was trying to steal her husband. Besides, curiosity and the cat are never far apart.  
As she followed them in stealth, Shampoo was quite proud with herself for not once rushing in and asking Ranma for a date, although she was tempted several times.  
She simply watched.  
And as she watched, she became increasingly amazed and more worried by the minute.  
Husband and Violent Tomboy were not fighting. For the entire time she followed them, Shampoo never saw even the glimmer of their infamous tempers. Worse, she saw Ranma take Akane's hand or allow her to link arms with him several times, although these were only brief, with both nervously stepping aside as they realized they were in public. But never more than a few inches separated their hands.   
They were getting along. It wasn't supposed to be like that. "Ranma not like violent tomboy, like me," she muttered in broken Japanese. But the evidence was before her, and then the crushing blow fell. Both stopped in front of the cinema and bought tickets before disappearing inside.   
White-hot rage burned around and within her, glowing dully in the night's darkness. "Husband will take that violent tomboy on a date, but not me, Shampoo, his bride?" she growled in Mandarin. The people on the street were walking wide circles around this obviously enraged girl. "I will make this date live in infamy for both of them. And then Husband will take Shampoo on a date, without violent tomboy."  
Smiling maliciously, Shampoo walked toward the theater.  
  
~ 5 ~   
  
Grabbing the jumbo popcorn, two Cokes and two boxes of Junior Mints, Ranma left the snack bar and returned to the theater balancing the food easily as he walked. So far the 'date' had gone surprisingly well. They had walked to the theater together, chatting idly about absolutely nothing of importance. Both knew what constituted dangerous topics, so they had avoided them and instead concentrated on mundane topics, like friends and school. Occasionally Ranma had thrown in one of his more amusing training adventures with his father. All in all it had been a nice walk over. Several times he had relaxed enough to hold Akane's hand, or offer her his arm again. He smiled at the memory of her warmth against his side.  
Slipping quietly into the theater, he made his way to their seats. Akane was waiting patiently for him, watching the previews showing on the screen. Sitting down, he handed the food to her. "Here's the stuff you wanted, Akane."  
"Arigato," she replied and grabbed a Coke and one of the Junior Mints. For a moment she looked confused and then turned to look at Ranma. "Aren't you forgetting something?"  
"Nani?"  
"My nachos, baka!"  
Ranma started then smiled nervously, "Gomen, guess I forgot. I'll go get 'em." It was taking all of his discipline not to tell her to go get her own nachos. It wasn't like she needed them. They had only had dinner an hour or so ago.  
"Don't worry about it," Akane said, standing up, "I'll go get them myself. I'll be back in a minute." She wormed past him and disappeared up the aisle.  
Sinking back into his seat Ranma watched the previews roll across the screen. It was not like Akane to back down from an argument that fast. Maybe she was making sure this night was perfect. It did not matter. He was enjoying himself. She was obviously having a good time. Not to mention the fact that she was beautiful tonight. A picture of her standing on top of the stairs filled his eyes.   
He cared for her a lot, loved her actually. It was just so hard to come out and say those words when he was in control of himself. To show emotion like that was just not in him. Stoicism was his nature, and it was hard to change that. But still, she was particularly ravishing tonight. Idly he wondered where this night might lead them.  
"Nihao, Ranma." Ranma cringed as he heard Shampoo's voice. He had known the night was too good to be true. Something had to go wrong.  
"Yo, Shampoo," he muttered in response, his voice flat and unemotional, "What're you doing here?"  
"Shampoo see Husband go into theater with violent girl," Shampoo explained in a bubbly voice, sitting down next to Ranma in Akane's vacated seat, "Shampoo think you on date with her."  
"I am," Ranma answered without thinking.  
"You go on date with girl you not like, but not Shampoo." It was a statement, but somehow the Amazon seemed to make it a question and insult him at the same time.  
"She asked me," Ranma explained getting annoyed with the girl. She was going to ruin everything. If he could just get rid of her before Akane came back. "So could you, uh, just go." It sounded lame, and he did not put much force behind his voice, but it was all he was able to think of at the moment.  
"No, Shampoo take over date, violent girl can get own date," she stated in a tone that broached no argument. Ranma groaned as Shampoo grabbed onto his arm and sipped at Akane's Coke. "So what we watch."  
"We are watching nothing. Akane and I are watching this movie. Now leave." Ranma was becoming desperate. He had to get rid of Shampoo before Akane came back. He refused to let this evening be ruined. His evenings were always ruined by jealous fiancees or crazed rivals. Just once, one time, he wanted a normal night out.  
"Don't Husband want Shampoo?" she asked in a quiet voice, looking up at him, eyes glistening.  
"No," Ranma nearly shouted. Please just leave, please. "Just go away. I'll talk to you tomorrow."  
Shampoo don't see what you find in ugly, violent girl. Has she ever done this to you?" With that she kissed Ranma, locking her arms around his neck in a vice grip that made it impossible for him to break, and he did try.  
Unfortunately Akane chose that moment to return.  
Akane entered their row and saw Ranma apparently kissing Shampoo and obviously enjoying it from how much he was wriggling in her grasp. White hot rage exploded in her mind. This night of all nights.  
He promised.  
He promised!  
"RANMA NO BAKA!" she screamed and slammed her fist into his head. This broke the kiss and sent Ranma slamming into the floor with an audible grunt.  
Akane had not sated her rage though. Next she turned on Shampoo, and before the Amazon could move slammed her half-way across the theater. Then she turned back to Ranma, ready to finish the job.  
Ranma had seen what had happened to Shampoo and was personally thrilled. The bloody bitch deserved it as far as he was concerned. Now however he had to make amends with Akane.  
He looked up at her glowing form. Tears were streaming down her face. "A-akane, let me . . ." he began.  
"Explain!?" There was a derogatory tilt to the word. "There is nothing to explain. I wanted this to be special. Just us. I thought you understood. You promised me Ranma. No other fiancees. I guess you don't care." She was sobbing now, her hammer having disappeared from her hands. "You promised. I hate you Ranma!" She spun on her heels and fled from the theater.  
His heart torn, Ranma watched her go. It was not his fault, he knew that, but it still hurt. The night had been ruined once again because he had never gotten rid of any of his fiancees. Ruined because he had never cared, had enjoyed the attention. At that moment he hated himself.   
"Shampoo glad violent tomboy gone. Shampoo'll kill her later for hitting husband and Shampoo, but now have husband to self."  
Shampoo chose the wrong time to come back, the wrong words to say, the wrong night, the wrong everything. Ranma rounded on her, his eyes blazing, his aura glowing blue in the darkened and very quiet theater.  
"Shampoo will do nothing." His voice was cold, sharp as a razor. He pronounced each word carefully, using them like weapons. He was sick of his life. He was sick of all of his fiancees. They were ruining him. They had ruined tonight. They had ruined the last year and a half of his life, but no more.   
"Huh?" Shampoo asked, "But violent girl..."  
"Shut up!" he snarled, "I am sick of this. I am sick of all of my fiancees. I'm sick of the trouble this gets me in. From now on I'm no one's fiancee. Do you understand me?" His finger stabbed at Shampoo, stopping inches from her chest.  
"But Ranma beat Shampoo, you are husband," she explained her eyes wide and confused.  
"That," he spat the word, "Is an Amazon custom and law. We are in Japan, not China and not even remotely near your village. In Japan I've got a choice in this matter, and I don't want to marry you. I am not your husband- to-be. Is that understood?!?!" Shampoo nodded mutely, her eyes wide in shock, her mouth moving soundlessly. "Now leave me alone!" With that he spun on his heel and left the theater, hoping he could find Akane. Behind him Shampoo began to cry, sobbing uncontrollably as she collapsed to her knees. Ranma did not see her. He would not have cared if he had.  
Rushing out of the theater, he desperately scanned the street. It was only sparsely populated with pedestrians. Because of this he saw Akane the instant before she disappeared around a distant corner.  
Leaping to the rooftops he began to follow her.  
He caught up with her easily, but stayed slightly behind. She was hurt. She was mad. He himself was furious, and he had no real plan in mind. What he had done to Shampoo had been spur of the moment. In his anger he had lashed out in the most effective way, not physically but emotionally, ripping her heart out. He knew how she felt, and he knew that what he had done was worse than anything he might have hit her with in a fight.  
As he pursued Akane, though, his thoughts returned again and again to his words. "I'm sick of all of my fiancees. I'm sick of the trouble they get me in. From now on I'm no one's fiancee." In his anger he had stumbled on a sort of truth. So many of his problem revolved around his fiancees. Ukyou and Shampoo were always vying with Akane for his attention, creating bizarre situations, changing people's personalities with magic, fighting him, plotting against the others, trying to hurt Akane. Kunou hated him because he was Akane's fiancee, Ryouga had also made that one of his biggest grudges against Ranma. Even all of his strange adventures to find a cure linked somehow. Most of them he never would have had if not for Shampoo and Cologne, or Ryouga for that matter. Ranma shuddered remembering the fabled naniichuan under the girl's locker room.  
It stood to reason that if he renounced all of his engagements, most of his problems would go away. Oh, he had no delusions that they would magically disappear. No, Kodachi was still out there, and Shampoo and Cologne did not know the meaning of the word quit, come to think of it, Shampoo didn't know the meaning of most Japanese words. Ukyou probably would still chase him, since she professed to love him.   
Somehow though it seemed like it would be better. A fresh start. His present fiancees would not be in such a fierce competition for him. He might even finally be able to have a normal relationship. Yet if he broke of the engagement with Akane, he would hurt her. He knew he would, just like he had hurt Shampoo tonight and would hurt Ukyou tomorrow if he decided on this course.  
He did not want to hurt her, but all these other fiancees and problems were hurting her also. Maybe, if they did break the engagement, they could start over, learn to be friends before they became lovers. It had all started on the wrong foot anyway. Engaged by their fathers against their wills. Then he had shown up as a girl. Yet the sparring match had been an auspicious start. Akane had let down her guard, they had been slowly becoming friends. But then . . . then the infamous bathroom episode and the fighting had begun.  
Now they did not know how to stop it. He cared for her, loved her in his own way. He wanted her to be happy, to be safe and protected, but they always fought. He knew deep down that as long as things remained unchanged they never were going to become close. Too much bad blood had been spilled.  
In the hospital he had come to understand how little of a chance they had, and maybe, just maybe this was that small chance. If it worked, if they put all the relationships behind them, even theirs, it then became their choice. Besides, they were too young to know what they wanted, who they wanted. They were only seventeen.  
Akane turned into the park. Ranma was close behind her. After a time though, she stopped next to a tree and collapsed. Despite standing several dozen meters from her, Ranma still heard her sobs, saw her shoulders shake. In a sense what had happened was his fault. He had never dealt with the other fiancees, but then he had never had a good reason. He had not admitted his feelings before. Now he had.  
Yet he did not move forward. He knew he was about to do something potentially very dangerous. He was about to shatter his family's honor, tarnishing it by denying his father's wishes and the family's promise to the Tendou name. For both Akane and for Ukyou, who also had a legitimate claim, the giri would be a sticking point.   
No, not even as small as a sticking point. In the end, with the giri abandoned, he would have to amend the damage somehow. And a simple marriage would probably not be enough at that point.   
Ranma cursed silently. Sometimes he truly wished he was not involved with traditionalist families. Emotion didn't matter to them, only honour.  
But then, was it not the same with Shampoo and her tribe?  
Breaking with Shampoo had been done in a fit of anger, normally he would never have done such a thing. Because he had beat her and was a martial artist, his honor told him to accept the law of her tribe and allow her to be his fiancee. He did not love her, he did not want her as a fiancee, but she was one. It didn't matter if everything had been a mistake, it was still binding.  
The honour of his family was different than his own though. He would tarnish his own to do the right thing, but to tarnish the family name just because it was convenient was dangerous. Seppuku was the least of his worries. It did not matter if he was intending to try and create a relationship with Akane. The vow would be broken.  
"But I don't want to lose her," he whispered into the night air. "I love her."  
Her sobs made him step hesitantly forward. What was life worth if he could not have her? Is my honor worth that much? He remembered her in the clearing. The bleakness that had filled him.   
No, it wasn't.  
Damn his family. Damn his honour. This was Akane. The girl he had nearly thrown his life away for, who had almost died to save him. HE would not allow her to suffer because he was scared of his mother and the price he would pay to make things right.  
"Go away," she said angrily as he walked up to her and waited patiently for her to notice him.  
"I need to talk to you," he said quietly.  
"There's nothing to say. I saw it all. Now go away."   
"You saw only the end," he insisted, "Besides you promised to at least listen to my side."  
"Why should I keep my promise when you broke yours?" she demanded fiercely.  
"Because I didn't break my promise," he snapped losing his patience. "Do you think I wanted Shampoo there? I was enjoying the night. I liked being with you. I was enjoying myself."  
"Obviously," Akane drawled, "Shampoo seemed to be enjoying herself too."  
"She came into the theater, looking for me. I asked her to leave, but she didn't. Then she insulted you when I said I was with you, then she kissed me."  
Akane remained quiet, staring at him. Her anger was still radiating like the heat from an oven. She was not pacified yet. Ranma took a breath and continued, "After you left, I was furious. I rounded on Shampoo and chewed her out, then I told her that any claim she had on me was gone. I don't care what her law says, she is never to be my fiancee again."  
"You said that?" Akane asked incredulous, her mood lightening at the words.   
"Hai."  
"But why? I thought you liked all of the fiancees chasing you. It made you a stud," she had stopped crying but was still keeping her distance.  
"My fiancees only cause me trouble, with school, with our families, with other people, and with you. I don't want it anymore. I've decided to renounce all of my engagements. I'll make my own decision."   
"D-does that include ours?" Akane asked fearfully, tentatively.  
"Hai, but . . ."  
"Ranma no baka!" she screamed, but Ranma was ready for this. His hands flashed out and grabbed her wrists, halting the incoming punch. "Let me go."  
"Let me finish," he said through gritted teeth. It was difficult to hold her arms still. He was surprised at how strong she was.  
"No, you said you loved me. We-we slept together," she sobbed, "And now you want to throw it all away, throw me away like some used tissue? I won't have it!"  
"I'm not throwing you aside," Ranma shouted, "I'm saving our relationship!"  
That comment silenced Akane. Her face drew itself up into a puzzled expression. "Did I hit you too hard? That makes no sense."  
"Let me explain, please," Ranma pleaded. Akane nodded agreement after a few moments. Once he felt her arms loosen, he released her hands. She returned to her original position.  
"Explain, and it'd better be good." The warning and threat in her words was apparent.   
Ranma gulped audibly and started to explain his fledgling reasons. "We were forced into this engagement. Our parents wanted it, not us. We fought it and each other from the beginning. Then with the other girls and all of those people at school, all the misunderstandings and crazy adventures, it just made it harder and harder to get along . . . to forgive each other . . . Don't you get it? Our engagement is the cause of so many of our problems, not to mention many of my other ones.  
"We're more enemies than friends. No matter what we feel, we still look at the other as a rival, as an annoyance or problem. I wanna start over. Fresh, no misunderstandings, no forced marriages. How do you even know we're right for each other?"   
Akane widened her eyes at that question. Surprisingly, everything Ranma was saying was not like him. He never thought about things this deeply, of course she had not seen him suffer when he had thought he had raped her, or been with him all the time in the hospital.  
"One of us might find another person later," he said quietly, though it hurt him to think about that possibility, "I-I still care for you Akane, very deeply. I don't want to lose you, that's why I'm doing this.   
"Maybe if we start out working on being friends. We have time, we're only seventeen," he said solemnly. "You weren't planning to get married anytime soon, were you?"  
"No," she said, "Actually, I never thought we'd be married. We fight so much."  
"That's why I want to do this. It clears everything away, and maybe, down the road, we'll decide we want to be together forever. Then we can get engaged and married, of our own free will, without hating each other, without all of our present problems."  
Akane sat quietly and thought about what Ranma had said. In a way, he was right, but at the same time, it seemed like a mistake. But he was going to get rid of the other girls also, and he had said that he cared for her and didn't want to lose her. She did not want to lose him either, even after tonight. She loved him deeply, but, at the same time, hated him so much.  
He was right. They had started out wrong, and here was a chance to fix that. It was risky, she might lose him, but then again she might lose him faster if they did not do anything. For once Ranma was right, she finally decided.  
"Hai," she softly agreed. "As of now, our engagement is off."   
Ranma held out his hand, tentatively Akane took it, despite the fact that it was a Western agreement. They shook on it. Then Ranma stood up and walked away.   
Startled, Akane started to call for him, but he suddenly turned around and walked back to her, with a mischievous grin on his face. He stopped in front of her and bowed. "Tendou Akane?" he asked.  
Confused, Akane could only nod her head.  
"I am Saotome Ranma," he stated emphatically, "My father and yours trained together when they were younger. Tendou Soun has invited us to stay with your family for awhile, and he said you were a martial artist. I am pretty good myself, and I thought we might, you know, spar every so often. Maybe we could be, ah, um friends." He said the word quietly and blushed as he dropped his head sheepishly.  
By this time Akane had caught on to his game, and although it was silly and had no real meaning, since first impressions were forever, it was still an attempt by Ranma to heal things and start over fresh.  
Standing up, Akane bowed, duplicating Ranma's and establishing an equal status between them. "I am Tendou Akane," she said, "And I guess it wouldd be nice to have a sparring partner, even though your . . ." She stopped herself. This was not a time for stupid comments. Ranma was serious, and she realized she also should be. "Maybe we can be friends." She smiled at him.  
Ranma returned her smile. She looked so beautiful. "Um, I've gotta sort of, um problem," he said, rubbing the back of his neck, "You see, I was training in China, and well, I accidentally fell into a cursed pool, and now, well, I, um, that is, I turn into a girl when I get hit with cold water. But I turn back when I get hit with hot water. I don't like it, but so far there's been nothing I can do 'bout it."   
Still smiling, Akane took his hand, "That's horrid. I'd hate to have that happen to me, although me turning into a girl would be redundant." Ranma grinned at that, but stayed silent. "I guess it's not too bad, I mean it's not like you actually like it, do you?"  
"No, no," Ranma stuttered, surprised at the question and how quickly the game had become serious. They seemed to be covering everything, apologizing in their own way.  
"Good, otherwise you'd be a hentai." She absolutely had to get that in the conversation. "So I guess that does it. Do you wanna do anything?" she asked quietly.  
"Your father said you've already had dinner," Ranma said, "Maybe we could get some ice cream?"  
Akane smiled at that. "Hai, that would be nice. Your treat?"   
"Hai," Ranma said wincing. His wallet was already low from the movies and Nabiki's extortion the other day, but this was worth it.  
Carefully he offered her his arm. She took it gently, like it was a live snake, but relaxed once their arms were linked. "Let's go then."  
"Hai," Akane answered, and they both left the park, hope burning brightly in their hearts.  
  
  
~~to be continued~~   
  
Author's Notes:  
  
I would liek to thank \everyone who voted for MASN PT1 Ch1 in the monthly Best of Fanfiction for Continuous series. Being voted in was a great surprise for me, and I am humbled and giddy that you think so highly of my writing. I hope I can continue to live up to your standards. Once again, thank you.  
  
Other notes:  
I am not going to say much here. Ch 2 is a springboard from Ch 1 into Ch 3 and the rest of the series after that. Some of you may be wondering at Ranma's actions. I've read tons of fics with Ranma choosing one fiancee over the other and then letting the others down one at a time or all at once. I decided I did not want something like that. Instead, when I had him just throw Shampoo off, I had the idea of just breaking all the engagements in order to clear the way for himself and Akane. Whether it will actually work is in question, but then he does this with very little thought,. He does think about it, but it is a spur of the moment decision, and so the consequences could be anything.  
As you might have guessed, this series will slowly bring in all of the other characters. I don't like introducing very many characters at once. I prefer to deal with them as they are needed and then will start delving into them.   
Part 2 the Judgement of Boukyaku will further the plot explored in PArt 1 and explain some things.   
  
Until next time  
Joseph Ashira Kohle ----*----*----*----*----*----*----*----*----*----  
All rights and privileges to Ranma Nibunnoichi   
belong to Takahashi Rumiko. The characters of   
Her series are used without her permission for   
The purpose of entertainment only. This work of   
fiction is not meant for sale or profit.   
  
All original characters are the creation of The  
author. All copyright privileges to these chara-  
cters are reserved for the author.  
  
This story is a product of the author's hard work   
and imagination. Do not modify, add to, or make   
use of any part of this work without the author's   
knowledge and consent. Please feel free to archive   
this work.   
  
Comments and criticism are welcome.   
Written by Joseph A. Kohle, (c) 1997.   
Revised by Joseph A. Kohle, (c) November 1999.  
Send all comments to jakohle@worldnet.att.net 


	4. Vol 1 Chap 3

DISCLAIMER: Ranma Nibunnoichi is the property of Takahashi Rumiko, Shogakukan Inc, Shonen Sunday Comics, and Viz Video. It is used without their permission and is not intended for profit but only for the enjoyment of fans of the Ranma series. All characters within this fic that are not the property of the above mentioned are copyrighted to the author, Joseph Kohle, January 1997. This work of fiction is the result of the author's hard work and is for the enjoyment of others. Please do not change, modify, or use any segment of this story without the author's knowing and written consent. Feel free to archive this work.  
  
************************************************************************   
  
Meiyo Ai soshite Nikushimi  
  
A Ranma Nibunnoichi Fanfic  
by Joseph Kohle   
Part I: the Step Beyond  
Chapter III: Consequences  
  
  
"Where's my food?" an angry voice complained from the dinning area. Muttering under her breath, Cologne threw a bowl of ramen toward the source of the voice. "Hey, watch it!" This was followed by a short pause and then, "Hmm, pretty good, Arigato."  
Where the hell was Shampoo, Cologne ondered. She had sent the girl out with an order over an hour ago. Grumbling under her breath, Cologne quickly prepared half a dozen more orders and launched them in the direction of their owners. Several surprised shouts were elicited by the flying food, but her aim was good, and everyone got their food safe and sound.  
Tonight was not going very well. Here she was, a Matriarch of the Amazon tribe, and she was cooking food like some pimply, scruffy- looking, college kid. She should be back at the village, training the younger generation, sitting in council to decide the future, and dispen- sing justice. Instead her three hundred odd years of experience were being wasted on capturing a snot-nosed man-child and bringing him back because her own granddaughter was unable to deal with the man.   
It was disgraceful. No Amazon should be defeated so consistently by a man, much less an outsider. Obviously Shampoo was lacking in her training. She'd have to remedy that. Or could it be the boy himself? The thought flashed through her mind quickly. Had she underestimated him? He was good, there was no doubt about that. He was still unable to beat her in a real competition, but he had prevailed in those limited ones. Had she made a mistake with him? In her quest tio test and better him inpreparation for his jpoing the Amazon tribe had she gone too easy on the boy?   
It was that or the boy had the devil's own luck. Everything she tried failed in the end. Passion spice, pressure points, kidnapings, cures for his curse. In the end, they were all as effective as a crippled fighter. It was humiliating for her, for the Amazons. But what was she doing wrong?  
"I'm hungry!" a customer called from the dining area. A bowl flew from her hand toward the dinning room. She hated Japan, and every thing in it. Things would be so much easier if she was back in China. Then she could simply tie the boy up and take him to the village. "Will somebody take my order?" Arghh! Where in the name of all the Amazon Ancestors was that ungrateful, spoiled, dim witted, fool of a great-granddaughter. If she was not back her in five minutes, Cologne decided to throe the girl to the dogs.   
The cracking and splintering of wood filled the dinning area, followed by the surprised shouts of the customers. Cologne stuck her head out the serving window just in time to see a purple-haired blur fly past her and up the stairs, leaving behind only anguished sobbing. Now what, she thought. She decided she should check on it. "Probably just something about that fool son-in-law of mine," she muttered under her breath as she left the kitchen and followed Shampoo upstairs. Today was turning out to be one of the worst days in her life.   
As she reached the top of the steps, she began to hear Shampoo's muffled cries. They started softly but slowly crescendoed into a long and loud keening wail that filled the restaurant, resonating off the walls. A screech of rage was directly on the heels of the wail, then the destruction began. The shattering of glass and the crunch of furniture slipped through the walls, then the desk came through Shampoo's door and imbedded itself in the wall across the hall. Now Cologne was worried.  
Quickly hopping into the room, Cologne found a scene from Dante's 'Inferno'. A disaster zone was understating Shampoo's room. Crushed lamps and torn pillows littered the place, the feathers still floating in the air. The shattered remains of vases were scattered on the floor and imbedded in the walls. Her vanity was crushed, the bonbori used to inflict the damage sitting in the middle of the wreckage. Her bed was overturned and thrown against the wall. Shampoo stood in the center of her room like a some vengeful demon. Her aura was glowing a sooty red, her hands clenched into fists; however, tears streaked down her face and her eyes were swollen and red.   
Breathing heavily, Shampoo was a statue, unaware of everything around her. Ranma. It was the only ripple that wavered through her mind. A ripple that turned quickly to a crashing wave that carried her back into hysteria. "Ranma! How dare he!"   
With an inarticulate cry of grief, Shampoo grabbed a broken chair and threw it through her window, shattering the glass. Spinning around the Amazon looked for more to destroy. Her eye fell on the lone piece of furniture still standing, a small night table with a framed picture of Ranma smiling, a vase of flowers next to it.  
"Curse you, Ranma!" She screamed in Mandarin and slashed the picture with a sword she pulled from the ruins of her stuffed animals. The pic- ture Ranma was suddenly without head, then without a body as a bonbori crushed the table with the crunch and crash of glass and pottery. Then Shampoo dropped to her knees and began wailing in grief as her anger faded like the light in an eclipse.  
Confused and worried, Cologne hopped next to her great-granddaughter and laid a withered hand on the girl's trembling shoulder. "What is wrong great-granddaughter?" she asked in Mandarin. She had a small inkling, but the full story was needed. Son-in-law has obviously gone over some line.  
"R-r-ran-ranma," she sobbed collapsing against Cologne.  
"What has son-in-law done?" This was bizarre. Shampoo usually became angered at Ranma's other fiancees. Never had she lashed out at her future husband. The question was what the boy had doen to illicit such a response from Shampoo.  
Sobbing, Shampoo began to tell her story. How she followed Ranma and Akane and disrupted their date. Then how Akane had attacked her and Ranma, and Ranma defending the violent girl and turning on her. "Th-then he said I-I had no right to be his h-hu-husband. Said this wasn't China. He said he'd never marry me great-grandmother," Shampoo wailed and then began sobbing uncontrollably.  
"I see," Cologne said quietly. 'It seems I've become too complacent in this place,' she thought to herself. 'So this boy thinks he can flout three thousand years of Amazon tradition. I've gone too easy on him, now he will see how horrible it is to anger the Amazons.' Turning back to her great-grandaughter, Cologne said, "Don't worry great-granddaughter. Ranma will be your husband, and very soon I believe."  
"Really?" Shampoo asked, wiping her eyes, "Even though he no want Shampoo." She slipped back into Japanese.  
"Ranma will have no choice," Cologne said. It was clear that she had let this charade run for far too long, and by doing so she had allowed the main character to go off on his own soliloquy, ignorin the script sh had so carefully prepared and cultivated. It was evident that the boy was in desperate need of a reminder of exactly who was in control. It was time that Ranma was brought into the tribe or was killed. "Now clean yourself up and come downstairs and help me."  
"Hai, great-grandmother. Shampoo happy now." The girl smiled and jumped up and started looking for some clothes that were not ruined.   
Cologne turned and hopped out of Shampoo's room and down to her room. Her grand-daughter's happiness did not concern her right now. Only the honour of the Amazons was important. This boy had insulted and stood against the Amazon tribe too long. No more was he going to be a problem.   
Entering her room, she went to a locked chest and opened it with a key hanging around her neck. Digging through the artifacts, she pulled out a black bag with ancient Chinese script flowing over it in white letters. This was her only choice. It did not matter if the boy was not an Amazon. His punishment would be the same as an Amazon male who openly defied the Ancestors and Matriarchs. Unless of course he relented, then maybe she would let him survive.   
The bag was warm and heavy. It was just waiting for a target. It knew a Matriarch was holding it. It was pleased, Cologne could sense that. She smiled and began to prepare for her encounter with Saotome Ranma.   
  
Toweling off, Ranma entered the house from the backyard and quickly made his way down the hall to the bath. It was still early and only Kasumi was awake, her voice softly raised in song within the kitchen. She had greeted him politely when he had returned from his morning jog, obviously she did not share her father's and his own father's views of the situation. Whereas they condemned him, Kasumi accepted the turn of events with a smile and proceeded to support the new arrangement as if it were the old. So she allowed him in the house to get a quick shower before the two patriarchs woke.  
When he and Akane had returned the previous night from their eventful date, they had been confronted by their respective father, both of whom were elated at the turn of events that had brought Akane and him closer. They had gone on and on about how their schools were to finally be one. This had gone to the extreme of them starting to plan a wedding. He had been forced to step in at that moment and inform them that he had broken off the engagement.   
Happiness and elation had turned instantly into two irate fathers tearing into him, literally. Soun had done his demon head, yelling at him for his inconsiderate and churlish ways. His father had slammed him into the ground and started lecturing him on the proper duty of a son. Insults and blows had been rained on his head like refuse.   
When Akane had tried to intervene, she had been ordered to go to her room. All the blame had fallen squarely on his head. It was his fault and only his. Besides he did not want Akane taking the heat for this, just like he had wanted to protect her virtue by not having anyone find out why he had been injured. His love for her, his sense of honour was just too great to allow him to save himself.  
Finally the tirade had ended and he had been able to stand, anger burning in his soul. Soun and Genma had confronted him and told him to renounce his renouncement and accept the engagement.   
"Son, you are on the path of dishonour," Genma had said. His father's eyes had bored into his own soul. He had seen the pain, the shame he had inflicted, the wound he had given his father. He was a child who had deliberately disobeyed the pater familia. Such an act could bring about his own death or worse, disownment.   
Disgust had echoed his father's shame in the eyes of Tendou Soun. "What you have done is unforgiveable. We will not allow it. You will marry my daughter Saotome Ranma." He had slunk back under their deman- ding stares, his own sense of giri pushing him to accept and just take the punishment.  
"You will accept the engagement," his father had stated deliberate- ly, "After all I have done for you, I will not have you tarnish our family name."   
That had snapped him back. What his father had done to him through the training had been horrendous. Many of the things they had one still burned shamefully in his soul. And his father was bringing that debt on him? No it would not be.   
Drawing himself up, he had shaken his head and told them no. It had been the hardest moment of his life. He had beaten back a whole lifetime of honour and duty to have a chance at love. If the choice were offered again, he would do the same. He knew he would, even after they had thrown him out of the house, ordering him to not return until he accepted his duty.   
Silently thanking the gods for Kasumi, without whom he'd have been in real trouble, he quickly slipped into the bathroom and washed himself and left. On his way past the kitchen, he was halted by Kasumi.  
"Ranma," she said, walking out of the kitchen. In her hands she held a small bento box from which a delicious smell emanated. "Here's your breakfast."  
"Okagesama de," he said accepting the box from Kasumi. He smiled at her. "What would I do without you? You're a life saver."  
Kasumi giggled a bit and patted Ranma's cheek. "I'm sure every thing will work out, Ranma-kun. I'll give Akane your lunch."   
"Arigato," Ranma thanked her. Kasumi smiled and returned to the kitchen, her voice rising in a melodious tune. Ranma stood quietly and listened for a moment. His mother had sung while preparing food. Though he had not seen her since the age of five, he remembered her voice like it was yesterday. It had been sweet and filled with a tender love of life and her family, so much like Kasumi. To him it was justb one more reason for him to love Kasumi-oneechan. Frowning, he wondered where that thought had come from, but he accepted it in stride.  
Shrugging his shoulders Ranma went into the backyard where he had pitched his tent in the far corner, as far from the house as he could get without leaving the yard. Walking to the tent, he ducked inside and brought out a small mat. Placing it on the ground, he knelt and began to eat his breakfast, his eyes unconsciously fixed on the sunrise, the sky becoming a molten collage of colours as he watched.   
He rarely had time to appreciate the beauty of the world around him. It was always training. Training, according to his father, did not involve the beauty of the world. Unlike Tendou Soun, his father was a man of actions. Words and thoughts were for the philosophers, not simple warriors.   
It was strange in a way. Ranma earned his dislike of school from this fact, yet his father pushed him into learning so that he would develope mentally and physically. Ranma, however, observed the hypocrisy in his father and did what he pleased. In essence he was two people, and not just because of the curse.  
Trained in his school since birth, he was a fighter of unparalled skill. Any Samurai of ancient times would have been envious of Ranma's skill, but utterly confused by the way he applied himself. At times he was the perfection of honour, standing up for his duties, protecting those who needed his snactuary, and living life to the best of his ailities. Yet the next he would be the insolent boy that had been created by his father, vituperative and callous to the world around him.   
He was constantly at war with himself, tying to find himself in the mess of his life. It was times like these, when he had a goal, that everything was pushed below and the real Ranma came out. He was not fighting and trying to be someone. Instead he was the person few ever saw, few even suspected existed. A man who just wanted to live his life on his own terms. A man who was beyond his years.   
This was one of those moments, where he just found the serenity with in himself and enjoyed the world around him. He ate slowly, savoring the taste instead of wolfing down to avoid his father. When he had finished he set aside the empty box and chopsticks. Right now he had no worries, no doubts. He enjoyed that for a few more moments, before he went back to the tormented life he had left.   
Standing up he slipped back inside his tent and changed. Exiting the tent, he stood tall and stretched his muscles, enjoying the plea- surable pain of tight muscles loosening. It was still early, but he knew that his presence around the house would only aggravate matters, not that he really cared. A bout or two with his old man held a certain satisfaction to it. On Oyaji he could release all of his anger, his frustration, his confusion, and simply have the catharsis of pounding him into the ground. He clenched his fists, cracking his knuckles. Maybe he could stay for a bit.  
"Ranma?" Akane's voice snapped him from his thoughts, saving his father's pathetic hide. "Are you okay?"  
"As good as possible," he muttered angrily, turning to face her. Maybe a fight with Akane would make him feel better. The idea died as he saw her though. She was already dressed for school, a worried frown on her face. Baka, she's here to help you, he berated himself.   
"I-if you wanna, you know, become engaged again, I'll understand," she said tentatively. There was something in the way she said it though, that made Ranma stop and think before he answered. It was almost as if she wanted him to agree to her proposal.  
He shook his though. "I can't. I won't," he said simply. How to explain? How did he tell her that he was not going to be forced into something again? That he wasn't going to give in? Besides if he allowed this one, refused to revoke it, he lost footing with his other fiancees. They would say he was being inconsistent, and he would be. He could not keep one engagement forced on him and get rid of the others by saying they were forced on him. The others would flatly refuse him and continue on like before, maybe going after Akane, since it would be obvious that she was their biggest threat.  
Akane nodded her head indicating she understood. "Maybe I can explain it to them," she offered, "It's not like we're saying we'll never marry."  
"Arigato. You can try, but I doubt it'll help," he explained. He saw Nabiki exit the house and start walking toward him. He decided a quick exit was in order. "I'll see ya later. I wanna talk to Ucchan before school."  
"Do you want help?" Akane asked. She did not want to be there, but she knew everything was eating at Ranma. He was a person who solved his problems himself and tried at the same time to help those around him. Ukyou was just one more stress that was slowly going ot rip him apart.  
"No, it'll be easier on her if it's just me." He turned and leaped to the top of the wall. "By the way, tell Nabiki I'm not paying her anything." With that said he left the yard and worked his way toward Ucchan's, taking the most indirect route he could find. He was not looking forward to this.  
Ranma knew how hard breaking the engagement with Ukyou was going to be, hard on her and therefore hard on him. It was not that he loved her, well he did, but it was different than what he felt for Akane. Ukyou was his friend, his confidant, a memory of happy times in his life. In a way, he felt like he was throwing that away. It felt like he was taking a beloved picture and smashing it.  
There had been times when he had thought that if he was to marry any of his fiancees it would be Ukyou. It was true she had tried to kill him at first, but that had been a misunderstanding. Once that had been put behind them, she had come to love him. On the other hand, he had resumed their lost friendship. At the time it was the one thing he needed, a friend. With all of his problems that had appeared in the time since he had arrived at the Tendou's, Ukyou's arrival, despite the addi- tion of a fiancee, was a godsend for him. In one stroke he gained a friend, a link to better times, and someone who was nice, pretty, a good cook and was interested in the only thing that had mattered to him, martial arts.  
In addition to this she had accepted his curse with good faith. She had not cared that he changed into a girl, since she herself had pretended to be a boy for most of her life. They had become close quickly. Their friendship was what he had based his assumption of their marriage on, and eventhough he now realized that it had been a fanatasy, he did not want to lose that friendship. Ukyou's friendship was very important to him. She had helped him so many times. He just did not know what might have happened if he had not had her. Nor did he want to find out now.   
The others had not had a claim like that on him. Really he did not care for them. Shampoo was too violent, and loved him only because of the Amazon law. On top of that, her methods and those of the ghoul dissuaded him, they were not honourable. Love could not be tricked or bought or forced. Kodachi was just insane, and that was reason enough. Akane, now that was a vexing one. They fought constantly, hated each other, provoked one another, and simply could never put aside their differences. Really he did not even know where his love for her had come from. Over time it had just slowly grown and matured beneath his mask of hostility.  
Now because he loved Akane, he was going to hurt the only friend he had ever had. He did not want to. If he had his way, he would allow Ukyou to live with the hope of gaining him forever, and he knew, when he told her the engagement was off, that he would still give her that hope. He was not going to tell her about Akane and him. That was why he had refused Akane's offer. No matter how much he wanted someone with him, this was a task he had to perfom on his own, without assistance.  
Ucchan's was just up the street from him. Ucchan. He had always called her that, even when he had thought she was a boy. Ucchan and Ranchan, to anyone else it would have seemed a relationship made in heaven. To him it was pure agony right now. Please forgive me for this, Ucchan. I have to do it. You're my friend. I love you like a sister, but it can never be. I'm sorry. Please forgive me.  
Closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, he walked up the street and knocked on the door to the restaurant. The sounds of somebody walking down the stairs, and pulling back the locks came from inside, and then the door opened. Ranma was then face to face with Ukyou. Her face went from startled to a look of pure joy faster than Akane could lose her temper. "Ranchan!" she exclaimed, pulling Ranma into an embrace, "What are you doing here? Have you eaten? Come in."   
Before he could say a thing he was ushered in and to the counter. Ukyou started whipping up a okonomiyaki for him, humming happily in front of the grill as she poured the batter and flipped it with practiced skill. Ranma groaned. This was going to be harder than he thought. Sighing, he opened his mouth and began to speak. Each word a burning agony in his heart.   
"Ucchan, we need to talk about a few things." I'm sorry Ucchan. I'm so sorry. Please forgive me.  
  
"Shampoo!" Cologne snapped, her voice echoing through the buil- ding. She was in the middle of the preparations. On a small altar the black bag stood, five candles marking the points of a pentagon around it. There were only a few more steps, and then she only had to wait for the full moon to appear. Two days until Ranma was put in his place.  
"Yes, great-grandmother? What you need Shampoo do?" She popped into the room, bubbling with good spirits. Great-grandmother had promised Ranma as her husband, and great-grandmother never failed.  
"I need you to get a few things for me," Cologne said grabbing a piece of paper and jotting down half a dozen items. Then she handed the paper to Shampoo. "I need all of them by tonight, before the moon rises."  
Shampoo glanced over the list quickly. Everything seemed to be easy to find. Most were ingredients for a protection circle. Holy water or a Shinto blessing on parchment, wolfsbane, garlic, red orche, animal blood, and.."Huh? Why you need drop of Husband's blood?"  
"Do you want son-in-law to marry you?" Cologne asked.  
"Yes, Shampoo want very much," she gushed, bouncing in place.  
"Then get every single one of those items." Her tone broached no argument. Shampoo nodded dutifully and left her great-grandmother's room. She was not sure how she was going to get Ranma's blood, nor why Cologne needed it anyway? I hope she doesn't hurt Husband. Sighing, Shampoo ducked out of the restaurant and started searching for the items on the list.  
  
"Is it true?" Mio asked Akane as they walked to lunch, "Did Ranma break off your engagement?"  
"Yeah, spill it," Koiko demanded, "We've been hearing rumors all morning."  
"I heard he dumped all of his fiancees," Raiko said hopefully.  
"Ukyou never came to school," Mio observed.  
"Come to think of it, I haven't seen Ranma either," Raiko said. "Maybe they eloped."  
"No they didn't," Akane said quietly. "Ranma dumped her this morning, before school started."  
"How do you know?" her friends asked. They pulled Akane to a halt and surrounded her.  
"He told me."  
"You're still talking to him?" Koiko asked incredulously. "I'd never speak to someone who dumped me like that, after a date and all."  
Akane sighed in defeat. Nabiki had spread at least half a dozen rumours for a good deal of money that morning. The problem was that those six had spawned at least a hundred others. So far she had heard everything from all of Ranma's fiancees dumping him to Ranma running away to join a monastery.   
Ranma and Ukyou not being at school also complicated things. Personally Akane had not expected either to be here. She knew how much Ranma cared for Ukyou. Those two were close friends. Ranma was probably jogging off his frustration and Ukyou was at Ucchan's crying, but the stories had taken their absence like fire takes gasoline. She wished Nabiki had kept her mouth shut.  
"Yes, I'm still talking to him," Akane responded curtly, "It was mutual. We went out for ice cream afterwards, no hard feelings. Actually were getting along better now."  
"You two are confusing," Koiko observed, "Engaged you fight con- stantly. Dump each other and your friends. Am I the only one who finds anything disturbing in this whole thing?"  
"You've lived in Nerima your whole life, and you only find this strange?" Raiko laughed, covering her mouth politely. Koiko shot her a dirty look and shook her head in resignation. "But she's right. It is weird. So spill it, we're all friends here."  
"I don't really understand it." Akane said, looking around the school yard for some sort of escape. She did want to try and explain that Ranma had broken their engagement because he wanted them to have a chance at a relationship. It just sounded so..so, well, stupid. "We were sick of fighting because of it, and it just seemed like a good idea to break it off. I guess it's working."  
"Oh, I heard some junior say that he broke up with you because you stabbed him," Raiko commented in an of-hand manner. Akane could feel her temperature rising as she heard those words.  
"N-nani?" She swore to herself to have a nice long chat with her sister about this latest rumour.   
"That's right. Ranma was in the hospital a few days ago. A friend of his said he'd been stabbed," Koiko chimed.  
"I didn't stab Ranma!! I don't hate him." Akane shouted, then dropped her voice as she tried to explain, "We fight but I don't want him dead. That whole thing was an accident. Oh never mind." Then she saw a familiar black-haired head with a pig-tail moving across the school yard. There was no doubt that it was Ranma. "Excuse me, I see Ranma, and I've got his lunch." With that she pushed past her friends, who suddenly had at least another hundred or so questions for her, which she did not want to answer.  
Once free of them she hurried across the school yard, trying to catch up with Ranma. She had almost caught up with him, when a voice brought her up short. "Ah truly, this is a day that shall live forever in mine heart as one of complete perfection, for not only have mine ears heard that the foul perfidy of the sorceror Saotome Ranma has been removed from my beloved Tendou Akane, but the very object of my heart's eternal desire has been presented to me. Oh the god's must be with me this day."  
"Kunou, I'm in no mood.." She was cut short as Kunou grabbed her in an embrace from behind. Her anger, still fuming from Raiko's scathing cokmmentary, flared within her at the insolent and niggardly treatment contained within Kunou's pompous words.  
"Ah, I know that you doth only wish to enjoy your glorious freedom from that vile, villain Saotome. Thy world must be an eternal bliss of warming sun and fragrant fields and flowering trees, but let me enjoy it with thee, oh beloved Huntress," Kunou continued speaking, oblivious to Akane struggling to get her arms free so she could crush the fool. "I do love thee, Tendou Akane, let us spend this day toge...ugh."  
Akane saw the blur and then Kunou's vice grip dropped from her. "Leave her alone, Kunou," Ranma said from her side. Spinning and glowing with rage, Akane saw Ranma's fist planted firmly in the face of her assailant, a small grunt being the only sound illicited by the attack.  
"Saotome!!!!!" Kunou shouted as Ranma dropped his fist, "This dishon- ourable intrusion shall not go unpunished! The vengeance of heaven is slow but sure, and today it will be metted out on your pathetic body. You have finally lost your malicious hold on the lovely Tendou Akane, and soon I will liberate the pig-tailed goddess from thine lecherous arms. For the last time hast thou come between my loves and mineself."  
"Why don't you let Akane decide, asshole!" Ranma shouted back. He needed a release. Ukyou's grief stricken face was still haunting his mind, her uncontrollable sobbing, her pleas and demands echoing in his mind like a torturer's favorite tools. Kunou would do nicely, besides, Akane was still his, engagement or not.  
"She has no need to decide. Heaven has decreed that we two should be as one, that is all that any need to know. Now prepare thyself for death!" Kunou rushed towards him.  
"Kunou no baka!" Akane screamed bringing down her mallet. Ranma was faster than both. His hand flashed out and crunched into Kuno's diaphragm forcing the wind from his lungs. In the next instant, he had grabbed Kunou and pulled him into his knee. Akane's mallet just missed Kunou by a hair, crushing the stones of the walkway to a fine powder. Kunou could not even grunt as Ranma's knee connected with his stomach. He just crumpled in on himself and fell to the ground. Then Akane's mallet crushed his head into the dirt. "No one decides for me. It is my decision." She was starting to see why Ranma had broken off the engage- ment. She also did not want to be forced. She had a choice in her life.  
Around them the crowd oo'ed and ah'ed in appreciation, a smatter- ing of applause circulating. Having Kunou humiliated and beaten to a pulp was always a crowd pleaser at Furinkan, almost as pleasing as Ranma becoming a girl.   
Akane looked up, her mallet disappearing into Hammerspace. Ranma was starring silently at Kunou's groaning form, almost like he wanted the fool to continue. "Arigato, Ranma," she said quietly. He only nodded. "I've got your lunch, you must be hungry. C'mon." She grabbed his arm and tugged him away from the sight of the skirmish.  
Ranma followed in a daze, his mind still on the morning's events. Ukyou had taken the news even worse than he had thought possible. After he had told her that he was breaking off their engagement, she had simply starred at him in shock, her mouth forming the word no over and over in denial. Then she had attacked him.  
It had been an act of desperation, a fight for the only thing she had left. For Ranma it had been the worst battle of his life. Ukyou had been attacking without restraint. To lose had meant that she lost Ranchan, so Ranma had been forced to defeat her, but he could not hurt her while fighting. For a dozen minutes they sparred back and forth, the fight moving from Ucchan's to the streets and rooftops of Nerima. Event- ually Ukyou began to make the mistake common to her form, and he was able to overpower her, disarm her, and hold her immobile. She had continued to struggle for several minutes, before just collapsing to the ground sobbing. "Why, Ranchan, why?"  
Her question had destroyed him. He had almost relented and let her remain his fiancee. Her tear-streaked face had torn his heart. Having a girl cry because of him was horrible for him. It made him feel so help- less, so weak, so ashamed. He was a man, it was not honourable to attack a girl with fists and even words were too much if they brought about tears. So he had been at a loss as to what to do. He had to hurt her, but it was just impossible to do it.   
Gently leading her inside, he had sat her down at the counter and started talking. She had protested and pleade, but he had refused to relent, evnthough his heart had nearly crumbled. Finally, he had been able to explian "Ucchan, I'm not just breaking my engagement with you, I'm breaking all of them. I don't wanna be forced into anything. I'll decide who I'm gonna marry."  
Ukyou had looked up at him a gleam of hope in her eyes. She had sniffled and wiped her eyes, "Does that mean you might still be mine, Ranchan? I don't wanna lose you. I love you, Ranchan. Please don't leave me." Her voice had been broken and hurt and filled with such love and hope that he had been unable to take it away from her.  
"Hai, there is a chance." Only if something happens to Akane, only then Ucchan. Why did it have to be so hard? Love was supposed to be wonderful, not this painful torture and macabre farce that it had become in his life. He had left her alone in the restaurant, unable to take any more of the torture she was putting him through. He hated his life.  
"It didn't go well, did it?" Akane asked as they sat down under a tree, the shade cool and refreshing.  
"No," he answered simply.  
"I'm sorry. Is there anything I can do?" she asked, handing him his lunch. He took it absently and opened it. Idly he picked through his food, not really interested in eating. Ukyou's face refused to leave his head.  
"Just stay with me, I don't wanna be alone." Akane nodded and simply sat quietly next to Ranma while she ate. Ranma did not eat, however, he stared off into space, lost in his own worries and troubles.   
Akane was at a loss. It was obvious Ranma needed something, but she just did not know what to do. Since last night their relationship had become even more confusing. Were they friends? Lovers? Or was it just companions? She wanted to hold him and make his pain go away, but at the same time was unsure whether he wanted that. At least before they could have started fighting, that would have snapped Ranma out of his depression, forced him to think of something else, but that just seemed wrong now. So instead of becoming closer they kept the neutrality that had formed between them, and therefore they were both miserable as they ate lunch.  
"Why do I have to hurt the people I love?" Ranma asked quietly after a time. The silence was grating on him. He was not hungry, he was depressed, and there was no way to let it out without fighting or talk- ing. "I hurt her so much that I just couldn't take everything away from her. I had to give her some hope, make her think she still had a chance. But even that is just delaying it. I don't wanna hurt her anymore."  
"Does she have a chance?" Akane asked.  
Ranma shook his head. "I lied to her, just so I didn't hurt her more than I already did, but in the end it will just hurt her more. I just couldn't stand her tears. I made her cry, my best friend. I've known her so long. Why did she have to love me? Why couldn't Oyaji just think before he acted? It's not fair. Just not fair." His voice was barely a whisper, and he looked like he was about to cry, but he didn't. Akane knew he would never cry in public, no matter how hurt he was.  
"Would you, I mean do you, um, want to make her happy?" It was hard to say, but she had to give Ranma the chance now. She did not want to lose him, but then she did not want an emotional wreck on her hands, always having second thoughts about the way things turned out, especially if Ukyou did something drastic.  
For a while Ranma sat silently, pondering his reply. "I want her to be happy, but I don't love her like that. She's my friend, the sister I never had. I always knew we weren't meant for each other." Akane sighed in relief.  
Reaching out she touched his cheek. "Then you'll have to find a way to make her happy." Ranma turned to face her, their eyes locking. His eyes were beautiful. She was drawn into their grey-blue depths. They were filled with sadness, but behind that she still saw the simple love of life that he had, the vivacious strength. Unconsciously she leaned towards him.  
Ranma was surprised by what he saw. Love and desire burned side by side with compassion in Akane's hazel eyes. Suddenly what he had done seemed worth it. As long as it was Akane, anything was worth it. Slowly he started to lean into her, his eyes closing.  
"Nihao, Ranma." The mood shattered around them like a beautiful dream upon waking. Ranma growled beneath his breath. Akane was only a beat behind him with her own angry grumbling.  
The bundle of Chinese energy bounced over to the two with a carrying case for ramen and a small day pack on her shoulders. "What do you want, Shampoo?" Ranma's voice was anything but friendly. The girl was getting on his nerves. Twice in as many days she had ruined a good moment for him.  
"Shampoo hear husband dump violent girl," Shampoo gushed, "Shampoo so happy. Husband still love Shampoo."  
"I do not love..."  
"Shampoo bring food for Husband. Great-grandmother says we be married in few days. Husband happy?"   
"What's that old troll got planned now?" Ranma demanded, "You can tell her to forget it, I'm not marrying you, Shampoo."  
"Husband only saying that so not hurt violent girl," Shampoo looked at Akane with a gloating smile on her lips.  
Akane growled a few words under her breath. Ranma caught something about skinning and a Chinese rug. He decided it was a good time to break everything up before someone got hurt.  
"I think it is time for you to leave, Shampoo," he said evenly, pointing towards the school's gate.  
"Leave soon, must get something for great-grandmother first." With that she pulled a small knife and grabbed Ranma's hand before he could move and sliced his finger.  
"Itai! Wachyadothatfor. Bloody bimbo." He tried to pull his hand away, but Shampoo held tightly and squeezed a few drops of his blood into a small vial. Releasing his hand she stood up. Ranma quickly stuck his finger in his mouth and sucked on the wound, the sharp iron taste of blood filling his mouth. What was with this girl the last few days? Has she gone crazy? He shuddered at the thought of an insane Shampoo. Kodachi was bad enough.   
"Great-grandmother needs. Great-grandmother issue you challenge too," Shampoo said, picking up her things and leaving a bowl of ramen, "Tomorrow night, just when moon rise."  
"N-nani?" Ranma and Akane blinked.  
"Says you are weak, snot-nosed boy who cannot fight way out of paper bag much less defeat Amazon Matriarch. She says gaijin baby could beat Ranma in fight." Ranma was fuming now.  
"You tell that miserable, dried-out mummy that I'll be there. We'll see how good that decrepit, senile, old troll is. I'll make a purse outta her hide. Nabiki can probably sell it as real alligator skin." He was on his feet, his entire body trembling in rage.  
"Shampoo tell great-grandmother, but she not be pleased."  
"I don't give a damn!" Ranma shouted. He was not really thinking straight at this point. With last night, being thrown out of the house, hurting Ukyou, Kunou's stupidity, and Shampoo's interruption, the old ghoul's insults and challenge struck a nerve. Ranma needed a target, just like with Kunou, and the old ghoul was the perfect one. Pounding her withered hide would be very cathartic.  
"See Husband tomorrow night." Shampoo blew him a kiss and hurried out of the school yard.  
"Ranma, are you sure this is a good idea?" Akane asked, placing a restraining hand on his arm. I hope he calms down before the fight. In this state a gaijin baby could easily demolish him.   
"I don't care. I've had enough of that ghoul's meddling."   
Akane sighed. It was time for Ranma to go home and get some rest. "C'mon Ranma, let's get you home before anything else happens."  
Ranma allowed himself to be led out of the school yard. He was preoccupied with what he was going to do to that Chinese monstrosity.  
  
Akane dropped Ranma off at the dojo and then headed back to school after telling him to get some rest. Ranma had other ideas though. He was not even remotely tired. It was quite the opposite with him. The inci- dent with Shampoo had him so keyed up he could barely think straight.   
He did realize that he needed to calm down, but sleep was not the answer. Instead he disappeared into the dojo and started going through katas. Soon he was lost in the rhythm of his skills. As he worked his mind began to calm and he started thinking straight. He started to regret his decision. He was not up to a fight with Cologne.  
The wound in his abdomen had not healed yet. In his fight with Ukyou that morning, he had pushed it to the limit. The only reason it had not opened was because she had not hit him once, yet he had still been sore and very tired by the end of it. Fighting Cologne was going to be ten times worse. He would be lucky if he kept her blows down to only a few. Well there was no turning back now. He had accepted the challenge, and now he had to go through with it.  
He continued to practice until his muscles had loosened and he was breathing heavily. Much of the stress of the day had bled away with his workout, but there was still a little left. His eye caught the stack of bricks outside the dojo door that Akane used to work off her day's worth of frustration. Breaking something sounded good to him.  
Grabbing half a dozen of the masonry blocks, he carried them inside and set up three. Kneeling in front of them he brought his fist down abruptly and crushed them. That felt good. Smiling, he grabbed the last three and set them up. This time he concentrated, closing his eyes as he imagined smashing the bricks. Unfortunately, his body decided to shut down at that moment. He had taken himself to the limit, emotionally and physically over the past few days, and his body retaliated. Ranma fell asleep in front of the masonry blocks and slept in blissful peace.  
  
Cologne stood in the center of the circle she had drawn on the floor of her room. Just at the edge of it, facing the rising moon, the table with the black bag sat waiting. The candles around it were guttering despite the absence of wind. It was time.  
Reaching forward she picked up the bag. It jumped in her hands, heat filling her hands. A snarling filled her mind and she could feel the hunger of the thing. Sharply she spoke a word and the thing fell silent. Dipping her fingers in the garlic and wolfsbane mixture she began to untie the knot holding the bag closed. As it came loose a rush of wind filled the room, plunging it into darkness as the candles extinguished.  
Cologne cared little for light. Placing her hand in the bag she grasped a warm, pulsing stone figure. She pulled it from the bag and held it before her. A dull red glow filled the room. It was a small stone statue the size of a child's doll. Looking at it she could discern no intentional form, it was a swirling chaos of stone that seemed to imply terror and fear. She averted her eyes.  
Kneeling she began to intone a small cadence. "For three thousand years the Amazons have stood and cared for You. Now we call upon You once again to dispense your justice. One has broken our laws, has defied the Matriarchs who gave You form and gave You sustenance. I, Cologne, a Matriarch of the Amazon tribe demand punishment. I demand the Judgment of Boukyaku on the man Saotome Ranma."   
From the floor she picked up the vile that held Ranma's blood. Opening it, she poured it over the statue. As the blood splashed on the statue it disappeared with a hiss and a satisfied rumble. Gently Cologne placed the statue on the floor in the middle of the circle. Backing up she smiled viciously. "Tomorrow son-in-law. Tomorrow you pay."   
  
Ranma bolted awake, sweat pouring down his body. Something had been in his dreams, dark, malevolent, hungry. He shuddered, wondering what had brought it on. Nerves he decided. Yet he was unable to shake the feeling that it was more than a dream. The presence had been so real, waiting just beyond his reach. Nerves, just nerves.  
Slowly the real world intruded in on him. It was dark outside. Voices filtered through the walls of the dojo. Probably everyone eating dinner. His stomach growled hungrily, reminding him that he had not eaten lunch and had only had a small breakfast. Maybe Ukyou can..no I can't go to her. Maybe Shampoo? He dismissed that thought quickly. There was no way he was going anywhere near Cologne or Shampoo until tomorrow. It was looking like his own money was going to be wasted tonight.  
Sighing he stood up and left the dojo, intent on getting something to eat. As he crossed the back yard, he glanced at the house and saw everyone sitting around the table eating a large dinner. He halted in his tracks and watched them for a time.   
It was strange he actually missed them. Being exiled from the house was no fun, he wanted to be with them. They were his family. His eyes widened as the thought crossed his head. Before today he had never thought of himself as more than a houseguest, but the more he thought about it, the more he realized that the Tendou's were the closest thing to a family he could remember.   
His memories of his own mother were sketchy at best. There were a few things he remembered. Images of her kissing him goodnight, of her holding him after an earthquake that had terrified him, reading a book to him. They were so few, several dozen at most. A tear slipped down his cheek.  
The Tendou household had become his. Kasumi was like a mother to him, cooking, sewing, and offering advice, love and compassion. Nabiki was as annoying as an older sister could be, what with her money making schemes, but he still liked her in his own way. And Akane. His eyes absently found her at the table, the spot where he always sat empty beside her. She was something special. They fought like brother and sister, stuck up for each other like a brother and sister, yet cared for each other more than siblings possible could. They could almost be twins on account of the way they acted.   
As if she heard his thoughts, Akane looked up and their eyes met across the yard. She smiled and motioned for him to wait over by his tent. Wondering what she wanted, Ranma just nodded and slipped over to his tent. Dinner was going to have to wait. Well at least things couldn't get worse.  
Thunder suddenly rumbled across the sky, and there was a flash of lightning as rain began to fall in a drenching sheet. Ranma was instant- ly transformed into a girl. Muttering profanities, Ranma slipped into her tent and zipped it up. The rain was beating a steady thunder on the tight waterproof fabric.   
There was no way she was going out tonight to get food. "I guess I'll just suffer until tomorrow," he muttered under his breath. Drying off though was a concern. She was in no mood to catch a cold. She turned around and started digging through her gear until she found her clothes. Stripping off the wet outfit, she slid into some dry pants and her usual Chinese shirt. This finished she settled down and waited for Akane.  
It was actually a good half an hour before Ranma heard someone outside her tent. Getting to her hands and knees, she unzipped the entrance to allow Akane into her tent. Akane stepped in and placed a dish of rice mixed with vegetables and some sort of seasoned chicken in Ranma's hands. This was quickly followed by a warm thermos.   
Closing her umbrella, she settled down on some of Ranma's blankets. "I guess I should've thought to bring some hot water. Gomen."  
"Don't worry, this isn't the first time I've spent the night as a girl. Arigato for the food, I'm starved," Ranma said and began to eat, shoveling the food down. "Mmish ish mreat," she mumbled around a mouthful.  
"Kasumi-oneechan set it aside for you. She just asked me to bring it out to you," Akane explained, squirming around until she was lying on her stomach next to Ranma's sitting form. "Are you feeling better?"  
"Mmm-hmm," Ranma answered. Being famished, she was more interested in the food than thinking about questions, but she tried to answer Akane as well as she could. Luckily the food disappeared quickly, as was usual for Ranma.  
Sighing contentedly, Ranma put the empty dish aside and opened the thermos. The aromatic steam of herbal tea assaulted her nose. She took a drink and offered it to Akane. Akane took the tea with a thanks and took a sip. It was a little chilly for a March evening.  
"I don't think you should fight Cologne," Akane said as she handed the tea back to Ranma. "You're not in any shape for this."  
"I know, but...I just can't back down, Akane. Besides she insulted me, honour demands I face her." Ranma glanced down at Akane's form. Her face was lifted, starring up into her own. Her eyes were wide, her lips slightly parted, glistening in the lamps low glow. For a brief moment he wished Akane had brought some hot water. Ranma blushed slightly as the thought crossed her mind.  
Akane noticed Ranma's blush and regretted not bringing the hot water, not that she would have a problem with Ranma in this form. It was just a little more awkward and confusing was all. Shaking her head to clear the sudden onslaught of daydreams, Akane continued along her course of questioning.   
"Why is it always honour with you?" Akane asked.  
"Nani?" Where had that come from?  
"Why is it always honour with you? Why is everything a test of honour?" she repeated for him, "You get yourself into these big messes because of your bloody honour, just like trying to kill yourself. Why?"  
Ranma laid back on her sleeping bag, her head at Akane's feet. "What else is there? I mean, Oyaji raised me to always follow the honourable path in life, it's all a martial artist has."  
"Yet you are a member of the most dishonourable school of martial arts." She turned on her side to look at Ranma.  
Ranma blinked at the comment, but retorted quickly, "We simply take every advantage given. It's not my fault if someone turns their back because they think they've won. Always be on your guard. Never let an opportunity slip. Anything can be used as a weapon. The fight's not over until your opponent retreats from the field. Maintain the honour of the school at all times. Defeat is unacceptable." He finished the mantra and locked eyes with Akane.   
"I've lived with those for my entire life. But I've also got my own. Don't hit a girl. Never fight someone who can't defend themselves. Help those in trouble. Respect your parents. Family above self." Ranma fell silent, but then started again. "Those were the rules Okaasan taught me. She was the honourable one in my family."  
"You still haven't answered my question."  
"I don't know, okay!" Ranma shouted, "I just can't refuse things like that. I don't know what else to live by. I'm sorry. I didn't have a normal life. Your family has been the first taste of a normal life I've had. I didn't know what it meant to do something for love, or just for fun. I did everything because I had to. Do you understand?"  
Akane nodded her head. Somehow she did understand. Poor Ranma, to live without love. Never to have fun. It must have been horrible. "I'm sorry. I didn't know."  
"It's okay. No one did." Ranma turned away from Akane. "I'd like to be alone. Please."  
"Hai, I understand." She stood up and started to leave before suddenly turning back. She dropped to her knees next to Ranma's head and kissed her forehead. "I'll always be here for you." With that she scurried out of the tent and into the rain, leaving Ranma behind confused but, for some reason, feeling better. Ranma slipped into sleep, with a smile on her lips.  
  
The next day passed quickly for Ranma. School flew by in a blur, the only slow moment his lunch with Akane. From there he slept through most of his afternoon classes and then hurried home to get a few hours of practice in before he faced Cologne. The moon would not be up until around 9:30, so he had plenty of time to get to the Nekohanten. At least a few more hours to live.  
Like the previous two nights, Akane brought him his dinner after she ate. Then she sat down and tried to convince him not to do this. Ranma told her in no uncertain terms that he was going, and then Akane demanded that she be allowed to go with him. They quickly fell into bickering over this. Insults were traded back and forth and finally Akane pulled out one of her larger mallets and told Ranma in even less uncertain terms than his that she was going or he would not be able to go for at least a week. Ranma capitulated faster than the Polish army when Hitler invaded.  
So Ranma arrived with Akane in tow at the Nekohanten just as the moon was supposed to be rising, he had checked a Farmer's Almanac. Shampoo was waiting for them outside of the Nekohanten. She was dressed in a Chinese wedding dress, a blissful expression on her face.   
"Why are you wearing that?" Akane asked annoyed at the girl's presence, although it was Shampoo's home.  
"Shampoo marry Ranma tonight, Stupid-Ugly-Violent-Girl," Shampoo stated cheerily. Only Ranma's hand on her arm restrained Akane from disemboweling the annoying Amazon. Silently, she promised herself to make that fool girl suffer.  
"Enough Shampoo," Ranma said, "I'm here to fight the ghoul, not marry you. This is between me and the troll."  
"Let him in great-granddaughter." Cologne's cackling voice floated from the interior of the restaurant. "Son-in-law is obviously eager to get this started. I like a male with spunk." She cackled a short ugly laugh. Ranma shuddered and stepped past Shampoo, pulling Akane with him. There was no way he was leaving Akane alone with Shampoo.  
The interior of the Nekohaten was filled with candle light. Cologne was perched atop her staff in the center of the room. The table next to her was filled with small objects. As Ranma walked in, she threw several at him. Contemptuously, Ranma grabbed them from the air and threw them over his shoulder.   
"Did you bring me here to play games, Ghoul?"   
"No, son-in-law. You're here so I can teach you a lesson."  
"And what is that?"  
"That you can't insult the Amazon tribe and get away with it."  
"This isn't your village," Ranma said. This made no sense. There was something bothering him in the room. It felt like something or someone was watching him. It reminded him of the dream he had exper- ienced the previous night. Whatever it was not very friendly. "We're in Japan. How do expect to discipline me?"  
"Hear me now Saotome Ranma," Cologne intoned, her voice somehow swelling in the room, "As a Matriarch of the Amazon tribe I have found you guilty of breaking our laws. You have defeated my great-grand- daughter Shampoo in battle, yet you refuse to marry her. You are disrespectful to the Matriarchs, and an insult to the Ancestors. For this I pass the Judgement of Boukyaku on you."   
Shampoo gasped audibly. "No great-grandmother," she said in Mandarin, "He is not an Amazon. You cannot do this."  
"Silence child. He has stood against the will of the Amazon's for too long. By law he is to marry you and therefore an Amazon. His punish- ment will be in kind." She turned back to Ranma, and picked up the chaotic statue and flung it at Ranma. Acting on reflex, Ranma caught the missile in mid-flight. Suddenly his arm was burning than his whole body was cold. Pain shot through him, and then there was something in his head, chuckling evilly, looking on him with hunger.   
Ranma groaned and collapsed to his knees on the floor, his vision swimming. Cologne was laughing, chuckling evilly. "If you do not marry my great-granddaughter before the new moon rises, you will die son-in- law. Your soul will be consumed and you will be sent to Boukyaku."  
Ranma barely caught the ghoul's statement before he lost his vision. Then he was falling in darkness, a hideous creature chasing him. Dimly, he heard Akane scream before he was swallowed by the nightmare.  
  
Author's Notes:  
  
And you thought I'd keep all the supernatural out of this. Well I refuse to do something like that. This is Ranma and the supernatural is a large part of the series, heck just look at the curses. The only concession I'm not making to the orginal series is the comedy, I can't write it and it doesn't fit in my writing, and basing the character's personalities more in reality and developing them to where I think they could go.  
I could sy that Ch 3 sets the stage for the series, but I alreadyt said that in Ch 2 and Ch 1. What you'll see, hopefully, is a complicated plot that will eventually spin around several events. I'm not interested in writing a single track fic. This is going to start resembling a major drama or a soap opera (though if any one puts that title on this work I'll send Ranma and Ryouga after them)  
  
Until Next Time  
Joseph A. Kohle  
  
----*----*----*----*----*----*----*----*----*----  
All rights and priveleges to Ranma Nibunnoichi   
belong to Takahashi Rumiko. The characters ofr   
her series are used without her permission for   
the purpose of entertainment only. This work of   
fiction is not meant for sale or profit.   
  
All original characters are the creation of the  
author. All copyright privileges to these chara-  
cters are reserved for the author.  
  
This story is a product of the author's hard work   
and imagination. Do not modify, add to, or make   
use of any part of this work without the author's   
knowledge and consent. Please feel free to archive   
this work.   
  
Comments and criticism are welcome.   
Written by Joseph A. Kohle, (c) 1997.   
Send all comments to Ashira@worldnet.att.net 


	5. Vol 2 Chap 1

DISCLAIMER: Ranma Nibunnoichi is the property of Takahashi Rumiko, Shogakukan Inc, Shonen Sunday Comics, and Viz Video. It is used without their permission and is not intended for profit but only for the enjoyment of fans of the Ranma series. All characters within this fic that are not the property of the above mentioned are copyrighted to the author, Joseph Kohle, January 1997. This work of fiction is the result of the author's hard work and is for the enjoyment of others. Please do not change, modify, or use any segment of this story without the author's knowing and written consent. Feel free to archive this work.  
  
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Meiyo Ai soshite Nikushimi  
  
A Ranma Nibunnoichi Fanfic  
by Joseph Kohle   
Part II: The Judgement of Boukyaku  
Chapter I The First Night  
  
  
He was running, at least he thought he was running. The world around him was blacker than the devil's soul. Airless, without scent, silent, an impenetrable mesh of emptiness surrounding him, suffocating him. But there was something there, something behind him, hounding him, thirsting after his soul. If he stopped running, he would be lost forever. So he ran and ran, hoping that somehow he might escape this horrid, unending nightmare.  
How he got here, why he was here, he did not remember. Even his own name was a fleeting shadow, a vague impression of wild abandon- ment, of sorrow and loss, of pain, of skill. Akane. It was that word again flashing through his mind, but what it was or who it was, was beyond him, only that it was important to him.  
"Where am I? Who am I?" He had no voice, but the words came and echoed in his ears anyway. Behind him he felt the malicious delight of his pursuer. It wanted him to run, it enjoyed his fear, his helpless state.  
I'll face it. I'll stop running. I do not want to run, I never run from a challenge. He started to slow, at least he thought he slowed, there was no change in the darkness. The presence gloated in triumph, then there was someone next to him, another person, another mind, familiar yet unremembered and unknown.  
"Don't stop. If you stop, you'll die. You can't win here, not here. Just run with me, soon we'll find a safer place, a better place."  
He knew the Other was right. It would be impossible for him to defeat something he was not able to see. More than that though, he thought that he could trust the Other. There was something familiar about the Other. The Other was going to help him. So he ran. "Who are you?" he asked.  
"You know, just give it time. You must find yourself again. Do not give into Boukyaku." Boukyaku? The word stirred a memory, but as he tried to grasp it, it slipped away as if it were water in a net. "Do not force it. It must come to you. Just run now, just run." He ran.  
  
"Toufu-sensei! Toufu-sensei! Let me in! Please let me in!" Akane cried out in a grief stricken voice. She kicked the door again, the solid oak trembling under her attack. "He's dying, let me in!"  
Ranma was cradled in her arms, his body limp and cold. If it were not for the irregular rise and fall of his chest, anyone would have decreed him dead and beyond help on first sight and touch. "Please," Akane wailed desperately, "Let me in!" She pulled back her foot, preparing to smash the door, when it suddenly swung inward, revealing a very surprised Ono Toufu.  
"What..?" he began to ask. Akane pushed past him and rushed back into his examining room, where she placed Ranma on the table. Dr. Toufu was a few steps behind her. "What is going on here, Akane?" he asked walking up to her, then he noticed Ranma lying prone on the table.   
Instantly he was a doctor, checking Ranma's vital signs. "What happened to him?" he asked after a moment.  
"Cologne, threw something at him. Said was his punishment. He caught it and collapsed. I can't wake him. He was burning up, then he was freezing. He's dying. He's dying." Sinking to the floor, Akane started crying. "Baka, I told you not to go. I told you. Ranma no baka. Baka, baka, baka, Baka!" The last one came out with a massive sob.  
Whack...Her head suddenly snapped to the side, her cheek burning, tears of pain stinging her eyes. Blinking, Akane glanced up to see Toufu-sensei standing over her, his hand raised to slap her again. Grief was incinerated as pure rage entered her heart, forcing her body and mind to act as one. Jumping to her feet, she pulled her hand back to slug Toufu-sensei, unaware of the fact that it was Toufu-sensei. Her vision was blurred in her anger. "Why you..!" she began.  
Someone's hand grasped her raised arm and restrained her. "I'm sorry I slapped you, Akane, but you were going into shock. I don't need two patients."  
"Nani?" Akane blinked, reality slowly coming back to her. The calm words and reassuring presence of Dr. Toufu calming her. Confused, she looked at Dr. Toufu. He was gently holding her upraised arm, a serious look on his face, and behind him on the table...Everything snapped back into focus. "Oh, Ranma," Akane lamented quietly, "I'm sorry."  
"I don't think I need to worry about you going into shock now," Dr. Toufu said releasing her hand and turning back to Ranma.  
"Shock?" Akane asked, but Toufu-sensei ignored her.  
"Now tell me exactly what happened."  
Shaking her head to clear the last few cobwebs, Akane explained how Cologne had challenged Ranma, and when he had shown up she had started talking about Ranma being punished for crimes against the Amazons. "She explained them and then said something about the Judgement of Boukyaku. Then she threw something at him and he caught it. The next thing I know he is on the ground screaming and then he falls quiet."  
"I didn't think, I grabbed him and ran here. I just didn't want to go through this again. Once was bad enough." A stifled sob escaped her lips. "Please Ranma, don't do this to me. Please."  
"Akane," Dr. Toufu said threateningly, "You're slipping. Concentrate on what is happening, not your feelings."  
"H-hai," she answered, reaching up to rub her temples, just to do something.  
"Has he been holding this the entire time?" Dr. Toufu asked suddenly.  
"Huh? Holding what?"  
"This," Dr. Toufu lifted Ranma's right hand. In it was a hideous looking statue. Actually it wasn't that it was hideous, really it looked like nothing, but as she starred at it, she started to see terrifying visages in its swirling chaos. Shuddering she dropped her eyes from the idol, focusing on Ranma's face instead.  
"Th-that's what Cologne threw at him, I'm sure it is," Akane exclaimed stepping closer. "But I thought he dropped it on the ground. How is he holding it, his body was limp?"  
"It still is." For a few moments Toufu-sensei meticulously explored around Ranma's hand and forearm, gently prodding certain points and then attempting to move his fingers. Finally he let it drop and shook his head in puzzlement. "He's not holding it. His muscles are completely relaxed, his hand should not even be in that position. Something else is holding that thing there."  
"But what's wrong with him?" Akane demanded, stepping up to Ranma's inert form. His face was pallid and waxy looking, a ghostly white. He looked so weak. Akane brushed her fingers across his cheek with a feather-light touch. The skin was cool and dry, almost like parchment. She pulled her hand away after only a few moments. She didn't want to remember him like this, not like this. Turning away from him she stumbled over to a stool in the corner and sank down into it.  
"I don't know," Toufu-sensei answered, moving around the exam- ination room, grabbing items as he went, "His blood pressure is dan- gerously low, and his breathing is very shallow and erratic. I can barely feel his heart beating. But those things can be stabilized with drugs and a few machines. It's his ki that I'm worried about. It's not there."  
"That's impossible. He'd be dead if it weren't there," Akane argued vehemently.  
"I know. I wish I knew what Cologne did to him. I don't understand what this oblivion thing has to do with anything. It's impossible to force the ki out of a person's body." He was back beside Ranma again, half a dozen syringes in his possession. Picking up an alcohol pad he wiped down Ranma's arm and injected the syringes into his blood stream one after the other. After a few moments, Ranma's breathing became deeper, steadier. A slight flush heated his cheeks as huis circulation improved.   
"I need to check a few things, see if I can discover what Cologne did to him," Toufu-sensei explained as he turned to Akane, "Could you watch him for me, make sure nothing goes wrong. If anything changes call me." Akane only nodded before Dr. Toufu left the room. Sighing, Akane pulled her stool next to the examination table and took Ranma's hand. His skin was warmer under her touch now. Maybe he would be fine. Maybe.  
  
Ono Toufu left Akane with Ranma and hurried first to his small office where he made a phone call. Akane was in no state to call her family, being too concerned for Ranma, and he realized they needed to know. There was a strong chance that Ranma was not going to survive the next few hours much less the night.  
Nabiki answered the phone. He talked quickly to Nabiki explaining a little of what had happened. That Ranma had been hurt and was at his clinic. That it might be serious. He was not about to let them know how serious until he found out himself. At the same time he informed her that Akane was with Ranma and would probably be here the night. With that he thanked her and hung up, hurrying from his office to his study.  
The study was a simple room. Bookshelves lined the walls, over- flowing with books and manuscripts dealing with hundreds of medical subjects. A lone table decorated the center of the room, a chair pushed up to it, a single lamp illuminating a reading area. Overflowing the table were several dozen books and scrolls he had been studying. Ignoring these, he went straight for a set of shelves in the rear of the room and began rummaging through some thick Chinese scrolls.  
In the back of his mind there was an idea of what he was looking for. The way Akane had said the punishment Cologne had inflicted upon Ranma and the statue had made him think that Boukyaku was not the Japanese word oblivion. Since Japanese had many roots in China, he believed it might be some sort of Chinese spirit or demon, that was the only explanation for what he had seen.  
When talking with Nabiki, he had withheld information. He had done the same with Akane. Telling her about Ranma's lack of ki had been against his better judgement, but he needed someone to know besides himself. Akane had been right when she had said that a person would die without ki. The problem was Ranma was not without ki, it just was not in his body. Somehow the statue had absorbed Ranma's ki.  
Examining the statue, he had noticed a faint twinge in its own black aura, a slight color and pattern of blue that was as distinctively Ranma's as his genetic code. With the power of the aura around the statue, he was now surprised he had even seen that slight indication of Ranma's own presence.  
Any normal person would have been swallowed and subdued instantly by such a strong aura. Even just being around the object, he had felt small tugs at his own ki, and he knew how to control and protect his better than most. For Ranma to resist as much as he was, especially being in direct contact with the statue and most likely linked to it, was a testament to his strength. He was stronger than Toufu had ever realized, perhaps one of the strongest ever. That was not sur- prising knowing Ranma's skill and recuperative abilities, both highly advanced and instinctive for one so young.  
Even with his strength though, Toufu had seen the greater aura slowly winning out. Ranma did not have much longer before he was consumed and his body would die shortly afterward, if it wasn't pos- sessed. It was just like Cologne to meddle in something this danger- ous. He fervently hoped that she had a way to break this. He snapped his fingers as he found the scroll he was looking for.  
He pulled a well oiled parchment from the back recesses of a shelf. All of these documents had belonged to his Sensei, until he had died leaving Toufu as his heir. This room represented the knowledge of nearly fifty generations of great healers and practitioners of the spiritual arts.  
Moving to the table, he untied the scroll and unrolled it. His practiced eye scanned the characters quickly, skimming through most of the scrolls information. It was mostly on Chinese mythology and the affect of the beliefs on the balance a body had to maintain to remain healthy. Near the end of it though, there was a section dealing with actual spiritual beings that could directly affect or even destroy the balance within, and among them he found what he was looking for.  
It was similar to the kanji for the Japanese, yet there were some subtle differences in the formation. It wasn't oblivion, it was the name of a vengeful spirit connected somehow to the Amazon tribe in China. That at least explained why Cologne used it. Other than that informa- tion though, there was nothing except a warning that stated that the thing resided in physical objects, and should never be allowed to enter a living vessel not warded against it.   
Rolling the scroll back up, he set it aside and started to ponder the situation. There was nothing helpful in the scroll or in any of his other manuscripts. He had read them all and knew all of their contents in a general way. None of them dealt with this particular spirit, and it was only mentioned in a scroll about myths and personal belief. Besides a few small rituals there was nothing he could do.   
  
Nabiki returned the phone to its cradle, her mind spinning with un- answered questions. Ranma was hurt, seriously. That was the second time this week. For Ranma that was a frightening statistic. He rarely went to the hospital, since he was rarely that injured or recovered before anyone could get him there, but now twice in a week. And Akane was with him again.  
There was something going on here. She knew that. Their story in the hospital was as believable as cheap property in Tokyo. There were more holes in it than in Kunou's sanity and yet everyone went along with it, so she had been forced to accept it. Then Ranma broke off the engagement, and suddenly they were actually getting along like best friends. And now this. This and Akane was with him. She hated mysteries she could not solve.  
"Who was on the phone?" her father called from the living area where he was busy cheating as Genma looked frantically for the British Prime Minister.   
Turning around Nabiki walked towards them. "That was Toufu- sensei. Ranma's hurt, pretty bad. Akane took him to the clinic. She's there with him now." I wish Dr. Toufu had given me more information. What was wrong with Ranma? Toufu-sensei would never call if it were not serious. He had sounded a little distracted to her though.  
"Huh?" she asked, when she realized the others had been asking her questions.  
"What's wrong with him?" Genma asked curiously. He was not too worried. Ranma was strong. Anything short of being hit by a speeding vehicle or a gunshot was not going to hurt him too much, but he was still his son, so he was slightly worried and curious.  
"He didn't say. But it sounded like it was very serious."  
Soun broke down at this, crying uncontrollably. "Now our lines will never be joined, Saotome-kun."  
"But Akane is with him. Maybe this will bring them together. My son's folly in breaking the engagement will be rectified."  
"Oh yes, how true. Happy day. Happy day." Soun decried tears of joy streaming down his face.  
"But is Ranma-kun going to be okay?" Kasumi asked worriedly. Nabiki had not even heard her oneechan enter the room, but her comment had the desired effect. The room went quiet as the two fathers started to understand the entire situation.  
"Did you say serious?" Genma asked cautiously, looking pleadingly at Nabiki as if she could change the truth.  
Nabiki only nodded in response. At least they were finally paying attention to reality. Sometimes those two could be incredibly dense. She knew it had been the worry on Kasumi's face that had done it. Generally any response other than happy acceptance from Kasumi was like a slap in the face for everyone involved.  
"I must go. He's still my son," Genma explained as he began grabbing a few things. Soun began helping his friend, talking with him quietly, reassuringly. Nabiki thought about going for a second, but dismissed the idea. It would not really help her, although she did want to satisfy her curiosity. Uncle Genma would report back with information, and besides, Akane needed to return home eventually. Genma waved his farewells and left the house quickly, leaving Soun crying in his wake, lamenting the loss of his future son-in-law despite all that had recently happened.  
Nabiki wondered how serious it actually was. She hoped it was not life threatening. Instead of her own confusion, worry started to gnaw away at her. Ranma was part of her family. His presence had become as necessary as night. Things would not be the same if he were not here. Please be okay Ranma. I still need questions answered. There was no way she was going to let her feelings have that much control. Always a reason. There always had to be a reason.  
  
Time had no meaning for him. Each moment was the same as the last as same as the next would be, all just flowing into a seamless illusion of forever. One second or one year it did not matter, it would have been the same. The only perception of advancement was The Other speaking to him, telling him what to do, where to go, where not to go.   
The Other had told him to let his memory come back, but he needed to know who he was, why he was here. Since he had nothing to do besides running, he had time to search for them, and so he did. For a time he was able to regain a few things, flashes of a past, pictures of people, impressions of feeling, but before long they began to be ripped from him again.   
No matter what he did he was unable to hold onto them, the harder he tried the more slipped through. Something was ripping them from him, forcing him to forget. Finally he had to fall back on simply finding one memory, one image to fill his mind, and holding onto it for as long as he was able. If he lost all of his memories, he would be lost forever. So he fought and fought unwilling and unable to give into what seemed inevitable.  
Some memories returned to him with greater frequency than others. It was not that he sought them out, but when they returned he remem- bered having them in his possession before. Most were people. An older woman holding him, a long-haired girl wielding a large spatula, a panda and an older man together, and a girl with short blue-black hair always seemed to return. The girl with short hair was the most predom- inate next to a vision of falling into water and his body changing. He preferred those two even though they gave him strange and conflicting emotions because it was easier to hold onto them once he had them.  
Now he was holding tightly to the vision of the girl with the short hair hovering above him. He thought he was on the floor in it. She had a drawn and worried expression, her eyes filled with fear. Blood dripped from her arm, which was gently stroking his forehead. Maybe this was the last thing I ever did? Can I be dead? But I thought you were supposed to relive your life than, not lose it?  
He could still feel the malevolent presence that was following him, trying to trap him. Several times it had come close, but it had been distant and just on the verge of his senses for a while. Actually it hasn't come near me since I found this piece of my life. Is it ripping them away. Am I supposed to defeat it? How can I do that? I'm barely making it as it is.  
"Watch out!" The Other's voice snapped into his head. Startled out of his thoughts he suddenly noticed that the presence was close, on top of him, and then he was fighting for his life.  
A dark oppressive net swallowed him, trying to bind him as burning claws raked at his mind, trying to tear away his latest memory, his only hope of survival. "Stop fighting. It's useless mortal, you cannot beat me. Give in, it would be easier, painless. No cares, no worries. Do you want the pain of life? Here taste it."  
The memory he was holding became real, he was living it. Pain washed over his body, the scents and feel of the room becoming real, the girl's soft skin and warm presence cradling him. Everything burned, he was tired. He could feel his life leaking out on the floor. In her eyes he saw her fear and pain, tears streaked her cheeks, blood dripped from her arm to splatter in hot drops against his cheek. Suddenly he knew he had hurt her, caused that wound.  
"Life, that's what it is like. Pain, indecision, suffering. Do you want that? I can give you peace." He did not want to trust the voice. It dripped honey and trust, but underneath it was pure hunger. It was not peace but oblivion that the thing offered, he did not want that. He wanted his life back, his memories.  
"Nooooo!" he screamed and began to revel in the feel of the memory, the pain was real. Pain meant you were living. He etched the scents, the sights, the feel in his mind. But as each was etched an invisible claw raked across his mind obliterating them. He was unable to keep up. The realism disappeared, the picture frayed, becoming tattered. No, no, no, no, no. I don't wanna die. I don't wanna.   
Just her face remained, a vague impression. He clutched at it, giving everything that he could. Not her, don't take her. She's all I got. Can't lose her, can't let him win. Her face frayed, and disappeared. He howled in frustration, his own consciousness fading, disappearing, dwindling. Plllleeeeaaaasss........His cry bled off into nothingness.  
"I'm trying." But he was beyond hearing.  
  
Akane watched Ranma patiently, her hands gently caressing his forearm. She had been sitting for awhile. Toufu-sensei was still gone. At least Ranma was resting peacefully. There had been no movement, no sign of any life accept the rise and fall of his chest, the comforting warmth of his hand. Please be okay Ranma. Please come back to me.  
As she sat, she only starred at Ranma, watching him, silently begging him to come back to her. It required too much energy to do anything else. If she started thinking about what might happen, she knew that a breakdown would be unavoidable. Please be okay.  
There was a flutter of movement beneath her hand. Startled she looked closely at Ranma. His breathing was becoming faster. Suddenly he clenched her hand tightly, her knuckles cracking under the pressure. His body arched off of the examining table, a quiet protest of pain escaping his lips. Then he collapsed back on the table, his entire body going limp. The breath sighed out of his lips and he was silent.  
It took a moment for everything to connect in Akane's mind, then she started screaming his name, over and over as she tried to think of something to bring him back to life. CPR! She dimly remembered taking the class in school. Breathing and beating the heart for a person. Numbly she was standing up, and moving to him, hitting his chest once, twice. Nothing, she climbed up and kneeled next to him, automatically doing everything she could remember.   
She did not even realize she was glowing, her aura shining brightly, her voice calling out to Ranma with each compression. One, two, three, four, five, breathe. One, two, three, four, five, breathe. The rhythm was all that mattered to her now. Keep Ranma alive.  
  
There are no clues to work with. Idly his hands stroked the rolled parchment. He had to speak with Cologne and make her reverse her work and free Ranma; however, there was the fact that she had done it purposefully and might want Ranma to die. In that case there was nothing he would be able to do. He was not going to give up. He still had colleagues, maybe one of them would know something he could use to save the boy.  
Sighing, he put the scroll down and returned to his study and began making phone calls. He did not have much time, very little time, That's when he heard Akane start to scream Ranma's name.  
  
Genma was partway to the clinic when a strange feeling passed over him, like a shadow covering his heart. His heart sped up, adrenaline pumping into his body. Something was wrong, horribly wrong. Ranma! His eyes widened in shock and then he started running.  
  
He was falling, falling fast. There was nothing to grab onto that could stop his dizzying plummet. The thing that had destroyed him was with him as he fell, laughing at his misfortune and gloating over its victory. Lashing out, he tried once again to find something, anything that might help him. A scrap of memory, a fleeting impression, even just a name or The Other, but there was nothing.  
"Someone help me!" he screamed into the blackness. It was no use. There was nothing. He was doomed. Nothing. Nothing. Then there was something, so faint he barely recognized it. It was like a small breeze lightly soothing him on a hot, stagnant day. He followed the feel of it, trying to find the source. The thing had not noticed yet. It was getting stronger, almost intelligible. It was insistent, filled with anguished pleading. He reached for it.  
His tormentor noticed his actions. There was the sudden feeling of something descending towards him, trying to stop him. He touched it.  
There was a scream of rage.  
A shout of joy.   
He heard the words ring in his head, the memory return.   
"Ranma come back to me!"   
"I'm Ranma," he shouted in triumph and lashed at the descending oblivion. I'm Ranma.  
  
When Dr. Toufu entered the examination room, his worst fears were confirmed. Akane was kneeling next to Ranma on the table performing CPR. Her aura was glowing brightly in the room, flowing over Ranma as he lay on the table. The statue was a swirling black, the blue of Ranma's aura completely gone from its surface. No there it was. He saw a flash of blue that flitted across the surface for a second before being suppressed again. There was still a chance.  
He rushed forward, not evening hearing the door to the clinic open. First he checked on Akane. She was doing the procedure correctly, although she was talking under her breath. He heard Ranma come back to me said as she performed compressions, one word for each down stroke, then she lifted his head, and breathed into his mouth, raising his chest. Then she was back to the compressions, calling Ranma again.  
That she was doing CPR right made his job easier. He quickly touched several pressure points that would allow more of the oxygen she was giving Ranma to be directed to the brain, several others made his heart more receptive for the compression.  
"My son!" Toufu turned at the cry,and was almost bowled over by Saotome Genma as he rushed to his son's side. At the last moment, Dr. Toufu side stepped staying on his feet. Roughly, he pushed the boy's father out of the way.   
"Stay out of the way," he said. Meekly, Genma nodded and backed up, fear in his eyes. Turning back to Ranma, he checked a few more signs. It was no use. Ranma had no ki available, it was going to be almost impossible to bring him back to life. There was a slight flash of blue across the statue's black aura. He's still fighting. I've got to do something.  
He turned from Ranma and began rummaging through several small vials until he found the one he wanted. It was a black, viscous liquid. Grabbing a syringe, he filled it mostly with a sugar solution and then pushed the syringe into the vial and drew a small drop of the liquid, turning the clear solution black. Anything more would destroy the brain tissue and many nerves.  
Returning to Ranma he was about to inject it into the boy's arm, when he felt Akane start to channel her ki, unconsciously. Surprised he looked up. Tears streaked the girl's face, her blue aura swirling around her. "Ranma come back to me!" she screamed and hit his chest in a rather strong cardial thump. He heard Ranma's ribs creak. At the same time he felt her release a blast into him. Ranma's body jumped on the examination table.  
There was a flash of blue from the statue forcing the black back. He suddenly drew in a ragged breath and then exhaled it. Dr. Toufu thought he heard him speak, "I'm Ranma." But if he did, he did not say anymore. Instead his body started moving fitfully, jerking as if he were fighting.  
Putting the syringe back, Dr. Toufu gently helped Akane off the table. She was crying in relief; however, he did not have the time to deal with it. He gave her into Genma's care. Akane collapsed against Ranma's father, crying into his chest. Confused, Genma could only hold the girl who had just saved his son' s life. Toufu barely noticed, he had to help Ranma somehow.  
  
Now it was a fight. Although he was still at a disadvantage and might not be able to beat this thing, he knew he would lose if he didn't con- tinue. He was Ranma. He knew his name, and with his name came other connections, more memories. Who he was, what he did. His parent's names entered his mind with their faces. Other faces started entering and he finally remembered the girl with the short, dark hair. Akane Tendou. Although he did not know what she was to him, he knew her now.  
So it was a fight. He had gained some of himself back and was able to hold his own and protect himself. His name held power for him, pro- tecting him from many of the attacks. He did not know how he lost it to begin with, but the thing musty have caught him off guard. Not this time.  
This was not a fight in the normal sense of the word. There were no physical attacks, no dodging, no maneuvering for position. It was will against will. One was trying to wipe out the other's memory, the other was simply blocking the attacks with pure stubborn resistance. He would not give in this time.  
"Start attacking him," the Other's voice was suddenly in his head.   
"How?" he asked confused. He was barely defending against the thing now. If he attacked, the thing was assured of getting through his defenses. "Besides then I'll lose."  
"It's a gamble. I need something to happen, and this might get them to do it."  
"Get who to do what?" Ranma grunted as another attack came. He barely managed to push it away. Too many things were flashing through his head. Past experiences were returning at irregular times, the attacks had no pattern, and now the Other was asking him to attack. It was too much.  
"Will you just do it." The command was easy to understand. Mentally sighing, he agreed.  
As the next attack came he braced against it. It slammed into his barrier. This time when it withdrew he followed it back and lashed at the source. There was a grunt of surprise. It seemed impossible for him to hurt the thing, but enrage it he did. Suddenly the struggle became more physical, much more deadly.   
The creature started lashing at him and not his memories, although every so often he went for those. Ranma found himself defending two fronts, one that required all of his concentration and the other that he had no idea how to defend.   
Slowly he was beaten down, pain flashing through his senses. He had no body, but he had a form that was being ripped at and torn. The thing lashed out, and Ranma screamed in pain as part of his form separated only to reform with him later. Snarling in rage, he attacked.  
His form lashed out and struck something. There was a below of pain in his ears. Smirking with satisfaction, he lashed out again and again. It became easier with each use. It was like using a physical body. Every thing was just more sensitive and more chaotic, but he was able to do use it, use it effectively.  
Again and again he attacked, gaining back the ground he lost. He felt the things fear radiating in the darkness. Obviously it had not counted on this strong of a challenge. Then it attacked again. Ranma braced himself, but not enough. The blow ripped through his defenses and found his memories. With a cry of rage and dismay, he pushed away the raking claw that was trying to shred his past.   
With excruciating slowness the attack was repelled with minimal damage, but as he gathered his strength, the darkness began to glow red, and then burn as heat washed over his form, burning it. Searing agony filled his body. He was burning, the heat boiling his form. He screamed in pain. The rest of the battle and everything else lost in the pain of the burning, fiery heat.  
  
Dr. Toufu watched in awe as Ranma fought. There were only a few muscle movements, but that was unimportant. The battle was spiritual not physical, and that one could be seen circulating around the statue in Ranma's right hand.  
A solid black aura covered the statue, but on one side a spot glowed a bright blue. For a few moments it expanded trying to consume the entire black, but the other spirit retaliated stabbing into the heart of the blue. Each attack caused Ranma to retreat, but only on ground. He brought himself back into a small area, but glowed even brighter on the black. Many times the black struck at Ranma but was repelled with a burst of blue with each attack, and then something amazing happened, Ranma struck back.  
The blue arced across the black, leaving a clear trail behind it. The black reacted with vicious efficiency. Ranma was beleaguered by the attack, his position become overshadowed by the intensity of the offensive. It was like Boukyaku had lost control and was in a rage.  
"Is that my son fighting?" Genma asked quietly.   
The question broke Dr. Toufu's concentration on the battle. "You can see it?" he asked incredulously.   
"It just appeared a few moments ago," Genma said. Akane turned around in his arms and looked at the sight. Her face fell as she saw Ranma's position.  
"Hai," Dr. Toufu said quietly, "A spirit is trying to possess his body, and it is much stronger than Ranma. I'm amazed he has lasted this long. Look at the power of that thing."  
"You mean Ranma is going to...?" It was impossible for her to finish the question. What had happened a few minutes ago was still etched in her mind. She did not want to feel that way again. The horrible emptiness and grief that had filled her were unbearable. She knew she could not live with that.  
"Don't give up hope yet," Genma said, "Ranma is not one who will go down easily, look."   
They all turned back in time to see Ranma react to the pressure on him. He exploded out of the shell surrounding him and struck back at Boukyaku, his blue aura racing across the black striking hundreds of times in a second, as if he had employed his Tenshin Amiguriken attack.   
It quickly became apparent that Boukyaku was not one to lay down passively. They all saw the change in the attack, Ranma missed it. Boukyaku slammed through Ranma's defenses, stabbing straight to the heart of Ranma's position. Akane gasped in horror, breathing the word no very softly.   
But Ranma was there, blocking it at the last moment, straining to push the attack back. With an agonizingly slow pace, he did, and as the attack was finally pushed away, Boukyaku attacked again. The aura turned crimson and then sooty red, and expanded to cover Ranma's body. A scream ripped from his lips, his blue spot shrank quickly to a small dot on the red glowing ball.   
With a low cry, Akane was by his side, her had reaching to brush his forehead. She snapped it back with a hiss. "He's burning up, his skin is like fire."  
Toufu touched Ranma's arm, it was radiating heat as if it were a glowing forge. It was not like a fever, but it was burning the body like one. He needed to cool the boy down, or his body would be cooked. "Help me, we need to get him in cold water, preferably ice." He grabbed Ranma's writhing form in his arms, ignoring the heat and carried him out of the examination room to his bathroom.   
Dumping him into the tub, he turned on the cold water. The water began to fill the tub, Ranma's thrashing causing more of the water to cover him. He changed into his female form, and suddenly went calm, a sigh of relief escaping her lips.  
"Wh-what happened?" Akane asked, looking at Ranma closely. She reached out a hand. "He's normal again. No heat."  
"That's not all," Dr. Toufu said, looking closely at Ranma and the statue. The auras were half and half now, but more importantly, there was some ki in Ranma's body, not exactly his own, but very similar, maybe the curse's magical energy. "He has some ki back in his body, and the auras are even around the statue. Somehow we just gave him a chance to live. If he stays stable like this, we might be able to find a cure."  
"Then we've gotta start looking," Genma said quickly, "We can't let him die."  
"I need time to figure this out, call colleagues, get some answers," Dr. Toufu explained, leaning down and lifting Ranma-onna's body from the tub, "Right now we need to watch Ranma and make sure he stays like this. I'd like one or both of you to stay for tonight, until we can get some people to watch over him."  
"Why don't we take him to the hospital?" Akane asked as they walked back to another room, a small bedroom. There was a single bed, two chairs, and a desk in the room.  
"Because they'll just declare him in a coma and hook him to some machines, and they won't let me near him. I'm not trained for that, and I need to deal directly with him," he explained as he placed Ranma- onna on the bed.  
"Oh," Akane yawning, "I guess I can stay and watch him."  
"I will too," Genma said, "That is a father's duty."  
Dr. Toufu gazed at them for a few moments and then nodded. "Okay, but I think you need some sleep, Akane. The kitchen is down the hall, there is some cold leftovers there and a full pantry. I'll leave you for now." Genma and Akane only nodded before sitting down, and scoot- ing up to the bed. Neither noticed Dr. Toufu leave the room.   
  
  
The first thing he noticed upon waking was that he was somewhere. The lightless emptiness no longer surrounded him. The next thing he realized was that he preferred the black nothingness. Around him was a blasted wasteland. Cracked, hard, red earth stretched to the horizon on either side of him. In front of him, it slammed into a distant range of jagged peaks, behind a burning lake of molten fire blocked his path.  
Above him burned a black sun, a gapping hole in the burning sky. Hell, I'm in Hell. I guess those Christians were right, but where are the devils, the eternal torment. Or maybe this is it. Am I supposed to spend eternity alone in this damn place? He chuckled and was pleased to actually hear his own voice.  
The last thing he remembered was the burning pain, and then some- thing soothingly cool being spread across his body. After that there was nothing, a blank space that left him here.   
"I guess Akane was right. I shouldn't have gone to fight the old ghoul. Now I'm dead, aren't I?" He actually wasn't sure. He was tired and sore. His side throbbed painfully. Curious he checked it. There was no blood, but the wound seemed to have opened a bit at one end.   
"At least I've got my memory back." He thought that was a good thing, but then again. It might be worse to be stuck here forever, always remembering his past. "I don't understand. If I lost, why do I have my memory. That thing was trying to wipe me out. Maybe I haven't lost."  
Intrigued he looked around once more. This looked like a place some hideous, unseen terror would reside. It was possible. He remembered giving the thing a run for its money, and he was never one to give up. Maybe it brought him here because it was more powerful here, or he was less powerful. Either way it did not matter. He was still here, and it was not home.  
He starred at the mountains in the distance. "In the movies, they'd have the hero go and fight the beast to win his freedom. Maybe I've gotta beat the thing. Like that's possible." He sighed and pushed himself to his feet. "I've got nothing better to do." He began trudging toward the distant mountains. It was the only direction that seemed to lead anywhere.  
"I wonder where that other thing went to. Maybe it could help." Shaking his head, he picked up the pace. The mountains looked pretty far away, and he had no interest in staying here longer than necessary.  
  
Akane walked to school in a half daze. The night had been long and resulted in little sleep. She and Saotome Genma had watched Ranma in shifts of two hours. Of course her last one had ended just as she was supposed to go to school so she was exhausted and emotionally strung out.  
Luckily nothing had happened to Ranma after that one episode, but still that once had been enough. She knew her heart had stopped when his had. Everything had come crashing down around her. Even after going through the entire moment several times in the last few hours, she had no clue how she had managed to pull herself together and save his life. She had just known that she could not bear his death.  
"Hey, sis. Wait up for me." Nabiki's greeting brought her to a stop, until Nabiki caught up. "How's Ranma? Is he okay?" Her voice dropped off and she fell silent as Akane looked up into her sister's expectant face. "That bad."  
"His heart stopped last night." Nabiki sucked in a breath in surprise. "He-he almost died. If I hadn't known CPR, if Toufu-sensei hadn't been there..." She left it hanging and let her head drop wearily. Maybe I should go home. I'm too upset for this. What if Ranma wakes up while I'm gone? Or..or..No! No he won't die. He won't.  
They walked on in silence. The younger was too preoccupied and too exhausted to think of useless subjects to chatter about. The older was preoccupied also but not with the same thoughts. She was wondering about Ranma and Akane. The last time she had seen Akane like this was when Mother had been sick. They had all understood what had been wrong, but were hoping for the best even though they knew she was going to die.   
"Is he going to get better?" she asked quietly. It was something she wanted to know, but she was not prepared for Akane's reaction. Kasumi probably would have been hard pressed to deal with what happened next.  
Akane simply collapsed to the ground and started sobbing. These were not the quiet tears of disappointment or rejection, or even the uncontrollable grief of their father, they were closer to an emotional breakdown. Each sob wracked Akane's entire body as her grief poured out, her voice muffled by her hands yet still loud.  
Shocked Nabiki could only stand in place and watch her sister. What was she supposed to do? Akane had never been like that before, not since their mother had died. Finally something took over in her and she knelt beside Akane and wrapped her arms around her. Akane grabbed Nabiki and held tightly to her, her face buried in Nabiki's breast. Slowly Nabiki began to rock her sister and soothe her with gentle words. It was all she could think of. She had no clue what was happening inside Akane, but she wanted to help and so did as much as possible to comfort Akane.  
This was her sister and she was suffering. She was known as a hard, uncompromising, young woman that loved money more than anything else, but Nabiki loved her family more than anything else in the world. She never showed it, what with her many extortion schemes and her distant attitude to everyone in the family, but she knew where her duty lay.   
Most of her money went to the family in some way or another. Few knew of it because she handled the family accounts personally, allowing no one else to see where the income was coming from. Besides she had to make it look like her father was earning most of it, since the dojo had been in decline for several years, and she would never dishonor her father by showing that he could not raise his family on his own. Her father was just not as strong of a martial artist as he had once been. The death of his wife had sapped his strength, making it harder for him to deal with life.  
Nabiki had realized this quickly and started funneling most of her money into the family accounts. Some of it was invested, the rest used to pay the bills and keep them solvent. She did this without acclaim, without gaining anything. She did it because she loved her family and it was the only way she could show that love.   
Nabiki held her sister and let her grief run its course. After a time, Akane's sobs died down and finally stopped, but she still clung tightly to Nabiki. Gently Nabiki stroked Akane's hair, still rocking her like a small child. "You love him, don't you?" she asked. She had suspected as much for a long time and this just confirmed it, but she wanted to hear it from Akane.   
She knew how much it hurt to keep everything locked inside. She had done it since her mother's death. Each day it was harder, but after a time it simply became impossible to find a release, and without a release things just festered and made life harder to bear. So she had started denying everything and turning to the small pleasure of beating people with her schemes. Nabiki knew Kasumi held everything at bay by simply taking mother's place. Akane had turned to martial arts to relieve her emotions, finding violence a good outlet that didn't show anything.  
Akane nodded her head against Nabiki's chest. "I don't want to lose him," she whispered.  
Even after he broke off the engagement? I really should ask her about that, but it might hurt her more, and I don't want to take a chance at being crushed by one of her mallets. "Do you wanna talk about it?" she asked carefully. It was a way to get the information she wanted and maybe ease her sister's pain.  
"No," she said quietly, "I-I don't..it's too soon. I'll just cry."  
"Why don't you go home?"Nabiki suggested as she stood up, pulling Akane with her. Akane shook her head. "Okay, but if you start feeling like you're going to lose it, go home. Promise?" Akane nodded.  
Nabiki picked up her bag and realized Akane did not have one. At least Kasumi gave me her lunch. She gave Akane her lunch, and started leading her toward school. "Nabiki?' Akane said.  
"Hai."  
"Thank you, for being there."  
"Hey just don't let it get around, sis" Nabiki said lightly. Things were getting too close to her range of uncomfortable. "Remember I've got a reputation to worry about."  
Akane smiled a bit. "I understand, so do I." Her eyes were shining with love though. Nabiki turned away and started walking to school. What has Ranma done to us? Things were so much simpler without him. She didn't know whether she should thank him or hit him the next time she saw him..   
  
Akane was at lunch when she finally lost it that day. After the scene with Nabiki she had been able to control her emotions and plod through the day like a somnambulist. She only talked when people asked her questions, and then only answered with a few words. Kunou had earned a foot implanted in his face for his persistence, and after that he had left her alone. All in all she figured the day would end soon and end well. She wanted to go back to Dr. Toufu's. Then Shampoo popped out of the woodwork.  
It was the middle of the lunch hour when the dreaded ringing of Shampoo's bicycle reached her. The next thing Akane knew, Shampoo was stopping her bike and dismounting in front of her.  
"What do you want?" Akane growled at the girl. This creature was responsible for ruining her date with Ranma, for what was happening now. Akane held no love for the girl.  
"Shampoo want see husband," Shampoo explained looking around the area Akane was sitting, "What violent girl do with Ranma? Shampoo want Ranma marry her so he not die."  
That did it. "You ignorant, half-brained, backwater hick! You don't want your precious husband to die?" Akane's aura was glowing brightly as she stood up, facing the suddenly nervous Amazon. "Maybe you should've thought of that before placing that stupid curse on him."  
"What stupid girl mean?" Shampoo asked, "Husband have thirteen days before he die."  
"Thirteen days!" Akane exploded stepping forward. She saw Ranma in her mind, his body arching and then going limp, his last breath escaping his lips. "He's unconscious right now. The only reason he's alive is because of Dr. Toufu and myself. How do you expect him to marry you like that? Huh? Why don't you tell me that you damn bitch! C'mon. Tell me! What, has the cat got your tongue!?" She spit the last one viciously.  
Shampoo was shaking her head in disbelief. "That not right. Great- grandmother say he be okay for fourteen days. Judgment of Boukyaku supposed to work that way. Husband not supposed to have almost died first night." Tears were in the girl's eyes.  
"That ghoul lied to you then!" Akane screamed, "And it is still your fault. You should never have come to Japan. I hate you! I hate you!" Her mallet was in her hand. She brought it down onto Shampoo's head, but Shampoo moved at the last moment. Akane did not give up though. She swung again and again, forcing the girl against the tree. A cruel smile touched her lips. She would make this girl suffer for hurting Ranma.  
"Why couldn't you just leave Ranma alone? He doesn't want you. He never did." She swung the mallet down on Shampoo's confused face. It stopped short of the target. Confused Akane glanced down to see Cologne holding the mallet still with her staff. Akane opened her mouth to speak but was beaten to it by Shampoo.  
"Great-grandmother," Shampoo said in Mandarin, kneeling on the ground next to the ghoul, "My husband is dying. He is not awake. According to that girl he almost died last night. You said he'd be fine. That he'd come around in a few days and marry me. Now he is dying and I can't marry him."  
"Are you sure, Shampoo" Cologne asked.   
Shampoo nodded. "Ask her?" She pointed at Akane who was watching in confusion, not understanding a single word of Chinese.  
Cologne turned to Akane. "Is it true that son-in-law almost died last night?"  
"What? You don't know? You're the one who did it. Are you that stupid ghoul!"  
"Ah, I did not expect this. I must go see son-in-law now. You will take me to him." Her finger jabbed at Akane.  
"Why should I?"  
"Do you want him to die?" Akane shook her head. "Then take me to him." Akane sighed in defeat and let her mallet disappear. Anything to get Ranma back. Anything to make sure he did not die. Grabbing the remains of her lunch, she motioned for the two to follow her.  
  
Cologne examined Ranma-onna minutely. She checked all of her vital signs, her ki, and spent several moments examining the statue. Finally she nodded satisfied at her observations, then turned back to group.  
"This is not what I expected, but it'll do," Cologne said leaping to the desk and sitting down, "Son-in-law will live until the rising of the new moon, as long as he stays in this form. Somehow the curse is keeping him alive and protected from Boukyaku. He won't wake until the Judgement is lifted. In his other form, he will die quickly. I'll let him die on the new moon if I do not get his father's solemn pledge and Akane's pledge that he will marry Shampoo."  
"No, I won't let you do that. It's his choice," Akane shouted, taking a step toward Cologne.  
"It's your choice. You can lose him in death or only to another woman. It's up to you." With that the ghoul left the room and the clinic dragging a confused yet happy Shampoo with her, and leaving Genma, Akane and Dr. Toufu in shocked silence. This was finally broken as Akane rushed to Ranma-onna's side and held her close, crying. It's not fair. I lose you no matter what. It's not fair.   
  
Author's Notes  
  
Well that is done. A little long for just a few things like that? Well I like to sit and write. Actually I think I rushed the ending a bit. Maybe I'll change it later, but then that is later, this is now.  
So what'll happen to Ranma? We'll he reach the mountains? What is Akane going to do? Was Cologne serious? How does Shampoo feel? And what about Ukyou and the others? Can Dr. Toufu find a cure? All these questions will be answered as The Jundgement of Boukyaku continues on in MASN.  
Sorry, just had to do that, this is starting to look like a soap opera. And what about that mysterious man in the shadows? (Don't ask he doesn't exist ^_- But I'll start working on the new one as fast as I can. Of course I've gotta figure out what I wanna do with the next episode.   
Hmm, a few things to explain. I actaully consider Nabiki to be like this. I mean she does love her family, I just have not have not had a lot of time to develope her, so I sort of threw it all together in a great stew. She'll be a more active character later on. Actually you'll see that at most I'll bring one or two characters in each part. It's harder to handle more than that. Dr. Toufu doesn't get my attention until a lot later, but I did give a little bit about him here to whet your appetite.  
Not much else to explain. I always leave hanging ends. I mean who is this Other Ranma met, and what does it want? Well I won't tell you.  
Well enough rambling. I hope you enjoyed this installment.   
  
Until next time  
Joseph A. Kohle  
  
----*----*----*----*----*----*----*----*----*----  
All rights and priveleges to Ranma Nibunnoichi   
belong to Rumiko Takahashi. The characters of her   
series are used without her permission for the   
purpose of entertainment only. This work of fic-  
tion is not meant for sale or profit.   
  
All original characters are the creation of the  
author. All copyright privileges to these chara-  
cters are reserved for the author.  
  
This story is a product of the author's hard work   
and imagination. Do not modify, add to, or make   
use of any part of this work without the author's   
knowledge and consent. Please feel free to archive   
this work.   
  
Comments and criticism are welcome.   
Written by Joseph A. Kohle, (c) 1997.   
Send all comments to Ashira@worldnet.att.net 


	6. Vol 2 Chap 2

DISCLAIMER: Ranma Nibunnoichi is the property of Takahashi Rumiko, Shogakukan Inc, Shonen Sunday Comics, and Viz Video. It is used without their permission and is not intended for profit but only for the enjoyment of fans of the Ranma series. All characters within this fic that are not the property of the above mentioned are copyrighted to the author, Joseph Kohle, January 1997. This work of fiction is the result of the author's hard work and is for the enjoyment of others. Please do not change, modify, or use any segment of this story without the author's knowing and written consent. Feel free to archive this work.  
  
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Meiyo Ai soshite Nikushimi  
  
A Ranma Nibunnoichi Fanfic  
by Joseph Kohle   
Part II: The Judgement of Boukyaku  
Chapter II Lost Hope   
  
  
"Great-grandmother, can Shampoo ask a question?" Shampoo spoke quietly, the singsong Mandarin gently rising and falling. Cologne was smoking a pipe as she sat in her room, her eyes closed as she listened.  
"What is it great-granddaughter?" Cologne asked her voice crack- ling with age, "I still have much to do tonight."  
"About Husband?" Shampoo asked tentatively, as she stepped into the room and kneeled by her great-grandmother.  
Cologne opened her eyes and fixed her gaze upon the purple-headed Amazon, appraising her. "Among other things." She had no intention of discussing her plans with this child. Her great-granddaughter could not possibly understand what motivated her. "Now hurry up and ask what you came to ask." She let a ring of smoke drift lazily from her mouth and then speared it with an abrupt exhale.   
Before she had sought her great-grandmother out, Shampoo had been in her room, contemplating her dilema. She was worried, worried about her Husband. She did not want him to die, but it seemed that there was little choice in the matter for her. The decision rested solely on her husband's father and that violent brat, Akane. Genma was an unknown to Shampoo. She knew about him, that he loved to eat and was given over to thievery and shady dealings in the past, but he seemed very intent on Akane and Ranma becoming married. Would he rather have his son die than break his pledge to the Tendou's? And Akane? She always fought with Ranma and hit him, and insulted him. The violent girl berated Ranma and was an absolute terror to him, yet her husband didn't shoo Akane away like he did to her. Did Akane love Ranma? And more fightening, did Ranma love Akane? If so would she rather have him die than go over to a rival? Shampoo knew she would rather lose a love than honor.  
Yet it was not only worry that had brought her to great-grand- mother's door. She was feeling guilty, guilty about the entire situation. What the violent, kawaikune girl had stated was the truth. Without Shampoo, Husband would be fine and free at this moment. Maybe even in her arms. If she had only stayed in China, not been forced to go after the girl who had beaten her, the man who had defeated her, but what else was possible. The honor of the tribe demanded it. Her own honor demanded it. And now, now Husband had almost died, and might still die.   
Shampoo did not want Ranma to die. She truly loved him, even though deep down she knew he did not love her; however, that was not important. If she loved him, he would love her in return, yet she had to make sure that he did not die. Even if Akane and Genma refused, she wanted Ranma to live. There were always future times. There were more opportunities to capture her Husband than stars in the sky, but all the opportunities in the world were useless if he died.   
Great-grandmother always came up with schemes to capture him. Many came so close to working, one had to eventually, and she must have more hidden up her sleeve. Shampoo had faith in her, but this had such potential for going wrong, for ending in catastrophe for everyone. If it were Akane dying, maybe she might be happier, but this was husband. Shampoo did not want to lose Ranma. So she came to great- grandmother to alleviate her misgivings, her fear.  
"I-if no one pledges my Husband to Shampoo, will great-grand- mother still let him die?" Her voice was soft and fearful as she asked the question, her eyes downcast. It was hard to question great-grandmother. Many were Shampoo's memories of her wrath descending like a thunderbolt.  
"Yes." The answer was short and crisp with no hesitation on the part of Cologne.  
Shampoo started to tremble, moisture entering her eyes. I don't want him to die. "But why?" she asked her voice raised in a demanding tone, "Great-grandmother, there are many ways to win Ranma. No one wins if Husband die. I don't want Husband to die." Looking at Cologne, Shampoo implored her to relent with what she felt.  
Cologne returned Shampoo's imploring look with one of contempt. "That is not an attitude becoming of an Amazon. Do I need to punish you, Great-granddaughter?" Shampoo mutely shook her head, fear surging in the pit of her stomach. "Good, I don't have time for children."  
"Son-in-law has too long run circles around the Amazon's without a care for our position. It is disgraceful. No one treats the Amazons like that. If he does not become one of us this time, than I will let him die. It will be his punishment and punishment on the rest who have stood against us. That is my final word." Cologne fell silent and turned away from Shampoo.  
"But.." Shampoo protested.  
"Silence!" Cologne snapped, "I will not have your insolence great- granddaughter. I said my decision is final. Leave." She pointed her staff towards the door. "Why don't you scrub the kitchen? Every surface now." Meekly bowing her head in acquiescence, Shampoo slunk from the room like a dog with its tail between its legs. She would not let great-grandmother see her grief though. She would cry later.   
Cologne did not notice Shampoo's departure. It was unimportant; however, Shampoo's actions were weighing heavily on her thoughts. The child's actions were a disgrace to the Amazon tribe. No female worth the title of Amazon would ever place such importance on a man, especially a man not of the tribe. It was obvious the values of these soft and backwards Japanese were beginning to influence her great-grand- daughter. That was unacceptable, and just one more reason to go through with her course of action. Either way, the fool girl was going to need a great deal of training to break her and make her into an Amazon again.  
The young were very impertinent these days. They wished the tribe to become part of China, a subservient member working toward the greater good. She knew that was wrong. The Amazons had been free for thousands of year, and would remain so until they ruled all of China. These reformers would need to be shown a lesson now, shown the true power of the Amazons. Shown what made the Amazon tribe great. If they were shown, maybe then she and the other Matriarchs would not be forced to crush the usurpers like the ignorant bugs that they were.  
Shampoo had been Cologne's hope of the future. She was destined to be the Chief War leader of the Amazons, and since she was of Cologne's line she would also become one of the most powerful and respected Matriarchs. But now, now she had been corrupted, beaten by an outsider, unable to fulfill her duty of marrying a fool boy and killing a weak girl. It was disgraceful. She would need to start over with that girl, all because of Ranma.  
"Hmm." She twirled her staff among her fingers. The rudiments of a solution were beginning to form in her mind. Ranma's death would hurt many and prove her point. Why did he have to survive? True he was a great martial artist and would make an Amazon of incredible strength, not to mention his children, but he was not needed. There were many of the older Amazons just as good or better than that boy, and several of the children held almost as much promise.  
In his death the Amazons lost a powerful ally and rare opportunity, but the benefits gained by his death would offset any loses. In his death were all those in Japan who had thwarted and gone against the Amazons punished, most particularly the Saotome and Tendou families. In his death the power of the Amazons would be shown, in another nation outside their bounds. Fear was always important to maintain. No one must be allowed to think the Amazons were weak.  
And his death was the perfect way to punish Shampoo. Ranma's death would devastate the girl, making her easier to control, easier to reform. She would become hard and ruthless, a perfect leader for the Amazons. Cologne smiled and chuckled. Besides the girl must suffer at some point in her life. Show her how useless men actually were. They are only needed to reproduce. A woman was able to do everything else.  
And the tribe. What about the tribe? By killing Ranma it would show those upstarts who wanted to live with the world the folly of their ways. They would begin to fear the Matriarchs again. In this death they would certainly gain a taste and respect for the power that the Amazons could, no would hold some day.  
Yes, it will be so easy to make sure he dies. What is a promise to one not of the tribe? Besides he has reacted unpredictably to the Judgement already. If he dies I can easily blame it on that for now. I will not need to deal with the authorities, and then I'll let those who love Ranma know the truth. That I, Cologne, killed their precious youth. Yes, when I go to revive him, I'll leave something out. Just a small piece, but important enough to condemn him. The honor of the Amazons will be preserved no matter what.  
  
Picking up her books and notes, Akane pushed away from her desk and walked out of her room, shutting the door behind her. Everyday it was the same. For the four days since Cologne had made her dreadful pronouncement, her steps and heart had led her from her room, down the hall to stop in front of the guest room.   
Every night she came here, and every night it tore at her heart just a tiny bit more. When she sat next to him and talked, it required all of her strength not to cry, but it was easier to stop the sun than not spend time with him. No matter what way the dice rolled, she knew she was going to lose him forever, and so came to his bedside just to be with him, talk to him, fix him in her mind for what lay ahead. She wished this was a game she didn't have to play.  
For four days she had agonized over her choice. To let him die or give him to Shampoo. To many it seemed an easy decision. Let him go to Shampoo. At least then she would know that he was alive, and just maybe she might see him a few times again in her life. Wasn't that so much better than a simple marked grave, a memory that faded with time. But at least then he would be her's forever. She was the one with the claim on him at this moment. He had done so much for her. Protected her, defended her, loved her that once and now had been trying to make things better. He must love me, he must.  
If she let him go to Shampoo though, he would no longer be her Ranma. Shampoo will have him, love him, bear his children. To live with that was just as hard, if not harder than accepting his death. To have him alive, somewhere in the world, and have the knowledge ingrained in her that she could never hope to have him again was unbearable. She did not want that, could not take that, but everyone was telling her it was the best decision to make. Even her father.  
She remembered the conversation vividly. It had been so unlike her father, so different from the man she had come to know over the last few years. He had come to her as she sat watching the sun set, two days ago. She had just returned from Ranma's bedside, her eyes moist with tears.  
"Akane," Otoosan said sitting down next to her, his large, strong hands gently taking her small ones, engulfing them, "I know this is hard on you. Maybe I don't understand exactly, I've never had a choice that might kill someone I love." She started to object. "Shh! I've known how you've felt for awhile. Do you really think I'd force a marriage with someone you didn't love, no matter the promise or the future of my school?" She shook her head. She knew that she could have had the engagement broken a long time ago.  
"This is your decision, but let me make a suggestion. If you love him, don't take his life from him. Let him decide. He's a strong young man and will do what he wants. Don't fear. If he cares for you, he'll come back to you somehow. Don't live your life like me, always grieving for a lost love. Please, for me." He kissed her and left. A few feet from her he broke down and started crying, his strength and resolve cracking under the strain. He retreated from the world seeking refuge from the pain.  
Her father's words had relieved the pain for a time, allowing her to feel like she was not trapped by her choice. Reality, however, had a way of intruding into the minds of the sane, making escape impossible. And so did reality slip upon her once she had returned to her room for the night.  
Otoosan thought he knew what was going to happen if she promised Ranma to Shampoo. Despite what he had said, she knew Otoosan was set completely on Ranma and her being the heirs to the school. This clouded his judgment, but she could not love him less or hate him because of it.  
It was this single-minded purpose that blinded him to the truth. If she promised Ranma to Shampoo, if Genma did also, he would go. Oh he might complain and struggle, but in the end he'd go because of his honor. She remembered his comment made in the tent the night before fighting Cologne perfectly. She had asked him why it was always honor. He had looked at her, his eyes clear and serious, his voice even and calm as he said, "What else is there?"  
Even if he did not make the promise himself, she knew he would not ruin her word, nor his father's. Cologne had known that also. Her father did not understand that, but then few understood Ranma, even those who knew him personally. For many he was a riddle wrapped within an enigma. About his emotions and thoughts he showed next to nothing and said even less. Of the many who knew him she had been the closest for nearly two years, and still she barely knew him. Even Ukyou knew little about Ranma despite having known him as a child.   
Honor was important to him, as important as breathing. She knew that beyond a doubt. So her father's words were little comfort and even less now as she was about to confront him again, go once more into the lion's den to face emotions with which she was still trying to come to grips. Hesitantly, she opened the door and walked in.  
After Cologne had made her pronouncement, Dr. Toufu had decided it would probably be safer for Ranma to remain at the dojo. At least then his family could be around him, and then he would be free to pursue a cure. They had moved him there that night, a few hours after night fell. Maybe easier on him, but not on me.  
The lights were dim in Ranma's room, only a few small lamps illuminating his bed and the chair permanently stationed next to it. No one was sitting next to him, but then most came before darkness fell. A sort of pattern had developed among the family. Kasumi and their father generally spent some of each day watching over him. Nabiki usually stepped into the room for a few minutes after school. She never mentioned it, but Akane had seen her entering twice. Genma watched at night, and she, she came after dinner, when she could no longer stay away.  
Nothing had changed, not that she had expected anything. Ranma lay in her futon motionless and silent. The sheets were tucked to her mid chest, her arms lying on top of them. In her right hand the statue was still clutched, although Akane had placed a white cloth over the disgusting thing after her first visit.  
She hated that thing. Looking at it made her want to puke. Just sit- ting in the room with it made her ill and uncomfortable, and touching it...she dreaded to think of that.   
Even though he fought for his life, Ranma's face was peaceful in the light. The delicate features of Ranma-onna relaxed and calm as if she slept. Red hair spilled carelessly across the pillow, her lips slightly parted as she breathed, her breast rising rhythmically. She looked so innocent, like an angel. Gone was the haughty distance that Ranma held when awake. Gone was the slightly haunted look that always seemed to be present on his face. He was so beautiful like this   
Smiling slightly, Akane crossed the room and sat down next to Ranma-onna. Gently she brushed her fingers along her lover's face, languishing in the warm feel of her flesh, the soft resistance against her sensitive skin. It felt so different from the rough, weather-worn skin in his normal form. So different from when he had lain with her.  
She blushed as the memory returned again, her heart speeding up as the images of the moment flited through her mind. Insistent, demanding, rough, everything but romantic, that was what her first time had been, yet she remembered it with fondness and yearning. Being with Ranma like that had opened something deep inside of her, a desire to simply be with him, next to him, touching him.   
No matter what anyone might tell her, she knew that one act had changed her life forever. The sheer intensity of the moment, the deluge of new sensations and emotions had carried her away. She had not been ready for sex, she had not even wanted to lose her virginity until she was married, but now it was what had been right, perfect. In that one moment she had given herself completely and forever to Ranma.  
So different from the first time she had met Ranma, the images floated through her mind like an old, black and white movie. Ranma had been sitting at the table so depressed, her head hung low like this was the last place she wanted to be.   
Having expected a man, Akane had been embarrassed by this girl in front of her. Then she had realized how much more embarrassed this strange girl must be. A girl dragged to be in engaged to some stranger's daughter. Her heart and pity had gone out to the poor girl. So she had stood up and offered her hand in friendship. The grateful smile that had appeared on Ranma's face still burned in her mind.  
The face looking up into her own as she tentatively touched the girl's shoulder was filled with regret, despair, shame, and almost fear. "Do you wanna be friends?" She held out her hand. "We could spar." The face had brightened, the clouded, grey-blue eyes coming alive and sparkling with life. A small smile had ventured tentatively across her lips and then grown large as trepidation vanished. The girl nodded eagerly and stood up next to her.   
"I'll always remember you like that, Ranma," she said quietly, not sure whether she meant the first time or that one time together. Laying a hand on Ranma-onna's upper arm, she continued speaking "You're always so confident, sure of yourself no matter what. So why do I remember your weakness? Maybe because you show that side so little." She smiled and touched Ranma's cheek. "And now I'll never see it." A single tear escaped her eye to run down her cheek and drip onto the sheet.  
"Baka." The word was soft on her lips. "Ranma no baka!" she cried out, "Why do I have to do this? Hentai! Jerk! You insensitive bastard, come back to me. Don't make me do this. I don't wanna. I don't." The last word was whispered as she closed her eyes.  
Her father had not been the only one who had wanted to help her, give her advice that might make it easier for her. Last night Nabiki had come to her room. She had been sitting on her bed, depressed by her visit with Ranma. She had not stayed long with him, unable to stay in his presence and still keep her emotions under control.  
Her older sister had entered her room quietly and sat down next to her, her hand twitching toward her's before returning to her side. "Do you wanna talk about it?" The words were the same as after she had broken down in Nabiki's arms.  
"I just don't know what to do," she said quietly, keeping her face and eyes averted from Nabiki's, "I'm so worried, so scared, so alone."  
That comment brought Nabiki closer, her arm draping gently on her shoulder, "We're all here for you. Whatever you decide, we'll be there to help, but if you give me the chance, I'll make sure he stays with us. Where else am I going to get money?" Nabiki smiled down at her, but then let it slip. It was hard to make light of the situation.   
They had remained together for a long time, just giving each other some comfort. It was so strange to express their feelings to each other, but afterwards she had felt better, more relaxed. Maybe Nabiki would bring you back to me. She's good at those things.  
But Nabiki's words had not helped. No one's had, not even Kasumi's. Oneechan had come to her the night she had returned after hearing Cologne's judgement. She had been crying steadily since she had returned, shut away in her room, refusing anyone entrance. Finally Kasumi had entered with some small sweets and a calming tea. Setting the tray down, her oneechan had drawn the story out of her, comforting her with soft words. In the end she had said only one thing that really mattered. "Do what Ranma would want you to do?"   
It did not help, she did not know what Ranma wanted. Did he want her? Would he prefer Shampoo over death? Would he prefer not having her over death? I wish I knew. She stroked Ranma's cheek, trying to find solace for her tormented heart.  
"What do you want me to do?" she asked after a long silence, "Otoosan is wrong. You won't come back to me. Your honor is so much more important than feelings, especially for some kawaikune, violent tomboy. Why do you make me feel like this? I don't even know if you love me. I know you care, I'd be blind not to see that, but you've never just told me out of the blue, for no reason, how you feel. There has always been some tragedy that prompted you. I'm just not sure. I don't want you to die without knowing, but I don't know if I want to live without you if you do. It's not fair. It's just not fair."  
"I-I wish I had some hold on you. Some way to make you mine." She suddenly started laughing her strained emotions jumping erratically from one extreme to the next. "And to think that a week ago I wanted you to simply die, and before that..before that a week's worth of civil words between us would barely make up a minute long phone conversation. What is wrong with us? Why are we like this? Why does it take tragedy to bring us together? Why?" She fell silent again and idly began to twirl a lock of Ranma-onna's red hair on her finger.   
"If I promise you to Shampoo, will you find a way back to me? Let your honor and mine be damned. Will you promise to find a way, no matter what?" Imploringly she watched Ranma's silent face. Please just for a moment hear me, help me. Ranma didn't. "Hmph," she brushed off the sudden disappointment. "It's not like you would, even if you were awake. Baka."  
I don't want to lose you, but what other choice do I have. But which way, which way? I don't know Ranma. I wish you could tell me. I wish I knew what your father is going to do. It must be so much easier for him. So much more easier for him.   
Crying softly she touched Ranma's face for one moment and then turned to leave. "If I just knew how you felt, what you wanted." She closed the door behind her. Ranma stirred in her deep coma, a grimace of pain crossing her face. "Akane....l-love," she breathed in a voice barely above a whisper.   
  
He was tired of this place. The monotony of endless cracked, red earth, of an unchanging sky with neither night nor day, just always the perpetual burning haze glaring above him, of the distant, dark peaks no nearer now than when he had started had begun to grate upon his sanity. Even the burning sea that he had left behind so long ago would have been welcome. Anything was better than this endless torment of enforced isolation. I would kiss Happousai if he showed up.  
Everything was wearing him down, grinding him down to a dull edge like an overworked and abused tool. Recently he had been slip- ping into waking dreams as he plodded along, striving toward the only place where things might differ. They were simple fantasies that played out in his mind as if they were happening in front of his eyes. Some- times though they became so real that he almost cried from loneliness and sorrow.  
The last one had been the worst in a series of depressing visions. Akane had stood before him, sometimes crying, sometimes reaching out to him, but through it all her grief and sadness had been as clear as the noon-day sun. Trying to reach out to her, to comfort her, he had found only an empty vision that had dissipated under his touch.  
Only a few moments later though she was again before him crying softly as she spoke to him. "What do you want me to do?" she asked, "I don't want to live without you. It's not fair." What did she mean? What wasn't fair? Am I dying? Did I already die? Why can't I remember?  
"Will you find a way back to me?" Yes he called to the vision, trying to make her understand. I don't want to leave you. I love you. She reached out to him, her eyes overflowing with tears as she turned away from him. "If I just knew how you felt."  
"No, Akane! Don't leave me," he cried out to her, stumbling forward to her, "Akane I love you. I told you, didn't you believe me? I love you!" She disappeared as he tried to grab hold of her. "Akane, I love you, don't leave me. I'm so lonely. Somebody! Anybody! I'm so lonely." Collapsing to his knees he trembled as silent sobs shook his body.  
It had taken time to recover from that. He did not know how much, but that had been a long time in the past. He had walked and walked since then, concentrating on the next step, not the last, not the present, always the next. Thankfully no more visions had come to him. He did not want any more pain. He was so sick of it.  
He was sick of all of it. The monotony disgusted him. Loneliness ate at his soul, slowly devouring him. Fear and confusion chipped at his sanity, slowly breaking down the walls within his mind. He did not want to continue, it was so useless. There was nothing in the blasted place.  
"Dammit all to hell!" he screamed as rage abruptly boiled within him, "Why do I deserve this? Answer me dammit. Show yourself ass- hole! I want out. I'm sick and tired of these damn games." There was no answer. He had not expected one. There had not been one the other dozen times he had exploded.  
Sighing he faced the mountains once again. They were a goal to strive towards, yet they were as unchanging as the rest of the hellish land in which he was trapped. For every step he made walking to them, they seemed to retreat a step, always staying at the horizon, a days walk away.   
Taking a step forward he suddenly stopped in his tracks, his rear foot half-raised. I'm never going to get there, so why should I even try? It's not like those mountains are going to magically take me back to Nerima. I'm dead, none of this matters. If there was just a place I could sit and rest...Something caught the corner of his eye.   
Turning he saw a blackened tree with a few rocks spaced around it in a small circle. Where'd that come from? He was definite that it had not been there before. Maybe this place reacts to me. He smiled at the thought.  
Shrugging he walked toward the tree and rocks. If he was unable to go forward there was no reason for him to not just stay and rest for a little while. It will be nice to sit for a while.   
For the first time he noticed that he was actually tired and sore. Before this moment everything had been a numb limbo without feeling or physical needs. Now, just as he saw a perfect resting place he was tired, no, exhausted. And come to think of it he was kind of hungry. And wasn't that a piece of fruit? It was a small, purple object that hung pathetically from a lower branch, as twisted and blackened as the rest. Unconsciously he increased his pace.  
"I wouldn't do that if I were you." The voice stopped him in his tracks. His mind started listing things. He had heard something. It was a voice, not the wind. Had it been him? No, it had been a feminine voice. He was male, he felt his chest, one in Ranma's position could never be exactly sure what his sex was at the moment. Most assuredly male. It must be real. It must be another person.   
Exalted he spun around to face his companion. Standing before him was a short, red-haired girl with a pig-tail and grey-blue eyes. "You're.. you're..." he struggled to finish the thought, but nothing came out of his mouth. Finally he fell silent and sank to the ground in exhaustion, wearily looking around. "Why did I have to go insane now? Why you?" He started sobbing as a bleak despair filled his soul.  
  
Replacing the handset in the cradle, Ono Toufu leaned back in his chair and wearily rubbed his eyes before digging his fingers through his hair, his nails scratching his scalp. In the past few days he had called several hundred colleagues and gotten leads to at least another few hundred people. All had the same dead end, the same words issuing from their learned lips. "Boukyaku? It's an ancient Chinese spirit of darkness. Other than that I can't help you. Gomen." Click.   
Exhausted he glanced at the last name on his list. It was a longshot, a Professor Ikeda one of his colleague's Hong Kong contacts had heard of a few years back. The chances of actually having success with the man were at best just a fantasy, but he owed it to Ranma. If nothing else, Dr. Toufu thought the boy deserved a break for once in his life.  
Set on his course, he lifted the phone and checked the number. It seemed to be somewhere in Nepal, that meant he had to go through an operator. It would probably take a few minutes to connect. He dialed the number and waited patiently, answering the operator's questions. After a few minutes he heard the ringing as he connected.  
After the seventh ring with no answer, Dr. Toufu was about to hang up when the other end was picked up. A slurred voice muttered some unintelligible gibberish into the receiver. Blinking in surprise Dr. Toufu answered in a confused tone, "Er, is this Professor Ikeda?"  
There was silence from the other end. The sound of the receiver dropping was followed by a splash and a cry of exclamation before the man returned a little more coherent. "This is Ikeda," the man said, "Who's this?"  
"My name is Ono Toufu. I am a clinical specialist in Nerima. I have a puzzling case here that some of my colleagues said you might be able to help me with."  
"What kinda problem?" Ikeda demanded in a gruff voice.  
"I think it is a possession," Dr. Toufu said carefully. Several of the people he had talked to had laughed him off the phone telling him that no such thing existed.  
Ikeda started laughing a short, barking laugh at the other. "Y-you th-think it's a possession. It either is or it isn't. Which one is it?"  
"It's a possession."  
"Ah, so that's why you're talking to Ikeda the Witch Doctor, the Mystical Shaman of Crackpots." His unseemly laugh crackled across the phone lines once again.  
"So who's possessed? No let me guess. A small girl? Or better yet a Catholic priest. They always seem to think they get possessed. Can't be a Buddhist. One of them would brush it off as enlightenment. Some old lady with a bad streak of luck is my guess. So what is it I can help you with? Folk remedies? Quick fixes? Superstitious nonsense? C'mon speak up lad, I ain't got all night."   
Ikeda rambled on incessantly, obviously enjoying the entertainment of actually being sought out for information, or thinking it was a joke in the first place. Dr. Toufu was unable to figure out which, but he did need an answer. "No, it's a young man. An Amazon placed the Judgement of Boukyaku on him, and he has been unconscious ever since then."  
There was silence from the other end. "That makes no sense," Ikeda muttered.  
"If you don't believe me about the possession..."  
"No, no," Ikeda insisted, "If he was an Amazon he should be wide awake, well at least for fourteen days. If he was not, well, anyone not an Amazon would have died near instantly and become Boukyaku's vessel. Unconscious, that makes absolutely no sense."  
"Well, actually. He has a Jusenkyo curse, and he is residing in his cursed form to keep from dying," Dr. Toufu explained quickly, excited that he had found someone that actually knew a little bit of what was going on. Now if he could just get an answer.  
"Jusenkyo curse?" Ikeda asked curiously, "That might work, but I'd have no idea why. Well it doesn't matter. Only an Amazon can break that possession." Dr. Toufu's hopes crashed around him. "I tried to learn it, but none of them would teach it to me unless I defeated one of their women and became a member of the tribe. Pretty hard to do for a sixty year old man, well that's in the past."  
"Well, I thank you for your time," Dr. Toufu said crestfallen. Ikeda continued to ramble though.  
"I did hear of one other man who might know how to help though. I think he lives in Okinawa. Yes, I'm definite he does. On the north tip by Hedo Misaki. Let me see. His name, umm, Ouchi something. Can't remember it, but it doesn't matter. The people around there should know him. He was old when I was young, but he was still alive two years ago. A friend of mine talked to him. He should be able to help, if anyone can."   
"Arigato," Dr. Toufu gushed in appreciation.  
"Of course you'll have to go to him. No phone and no address, but I'm definite he can help you. He told me once of an Amazon he had cured of Boukyaku. Well I hope I've helped."  
"Hai, very much so. I wish I could thank you in some way. Ranma will be most grateful."  
"Could you send me a few bottles of sake? It's impossible to get that stuff in Nepal."  
"I'll work on it," Dr. Toufu said and quickly jotted down the given address and thanked the man, before hanging up and calling the Tendou household.  
  
Akane would have been surprised at how wrong she had been about Ranma's father. In fact, Saotome Genma was envying his son's iinazuke, as far as he was concerned the engagement still existed. To him her decision seemed the easier. Why would she want Ranma dead? Hadn't she had always complained about the engagement anyway? So why should she care if his son married Shampoo?  
In many ways, Saotome Genma was as dense and misguided as Kunou Tatewaki. The real world rarely ever intruded into his senses. In most cases he did not have to pay attention to it. About the only thing of the real world that affected him was food and sleep. For those two things he would do anything and had done almost everything humanly possible, and some things only pandas were capable of, to get them.   
At heart Saotome Genma was a coward and braggart. On top of this, his martial arts training had loosened the padlock around his mor- als allowing them to wander out to pasture like stray sheep. To be blunt Saotome Genma was not a man and in most cases hardly a human. That was one of the reasons he spent so much time as a panda. Pandas were not held by honor and social customs that always seemed to get in his way.   
There had been a time in his life that he had been a man for a time, just a small amount of time. His wife Nodoka had brought that out. At that time he had loved her more than life itself. He would have done anything for her, and still would. He still loved Nodoka and missed her terribly, but realized that to go back to her was the wrong thing. Deep down he knew what he was and did not want one of the good things of his life ruined forever, his love for Nodoka.  
He could not take that last insult. He had already ruined the other most important thing in his life, his son. When he had thought of it, it had been such a grand and noble plan. He would take his son and go out into the world and train him to be the best martial artist ever. At the same time he had decided to fix all the flaws in his training and upbring- ing. That was the reason he had so readily agreed to his promise to Nodoka. He was planning to make a true man out of his son in any case, so why not make a promise to the wife he loved so dearly?  
The first mistake was that he had not wanted to admit the truth when he left, that he was leaving because he was trying to escape. Marriage and fatherhood had not been what he had expected. The responsibility, the demands placed upon him by his son, his work, his wife were too much for a martial artist who had never settled down even as a child.   
Because he was escaping he reverted quickly to his old ways. With- in days he had become the sneaky, cheating, conniving, lying thief of his previous days. Three weeks into training he had already promised his son in marriage to some fisherman for part of his day's catch. From there things had slowly gone downhill for both him and his son.  
At first it had not been too bad. Only on a few occasions had he been forced to give his son in marriage for food or sell him or have him do weird tasks. They had returned to the home every so often for a week or two, mostly because Ranma complained bitterly about wanting his mother after being away for a few months. Slowly that longing became less and less, especially after the episode with Ukyou.  
For longer and longer they had been away and unconsciously Genma had begun to indoctrinate his son in the true form of Anything Goes Martial Arts. It was not that dishonorable tactics led to dishonor, it was just that they were much easier to apply to real life and so Genma did that and Ranma picked it up just as quickly, but with a slight twist of his own.   
Nodoka had had a strong influence on their son from the beginning. She had ingrained the concept of honor and obedience to his elders. So Ranma slowly became an amalgam of conflicting desires and attitudes. He followed Genma without a complaint, did everything he was re- quired, learned quickly but just like his father had retreated from the world, too confused by what he was supposed to do, confused by what was expected, what was the right thing to do. At times he became the man his mother wanted and stood up for the right of the situation, but just as quickly he would slip and become his father, addicted to pride, to martial arts, and unable find out what he wanted.   
The more he saw this happening the harder he tried to stop it by increasing the training and the length of time away. Then the mistakes started happening. The Cat-fist, the countless fiancees, and finally the coup de grace, Jusenkyo. It was too much. Ranma had been lost. Genma saw him crack a few days after he became cursed. He closed up, shut everything off. All that mattered was to be a man again.   
He had been gone from Nodoka for six years and he was in dire straits. His son had become something beyond him, a meld of Genma and Nodoka totally devoted to his art, totally obsessed with his current situation. He had needed to bring Ranma someplace to try and bring him back to the real world. He remembered his promise to is old friend Tendou Soun. They had agreed that they would marry their children, his son to one of his daughters. It was the only place he could go. Nodoka was an impossibility. He was never going to let her see what had happened to her son. He had failed her, so he retreated to the Tendou household and hid as a panda and young girl named Ranko.  
More than anything he thought that by engaging Ranma for real, he would be able to help him, show him there was more to life than his martial arts; however, that was hard to do for a man who considered martial arts all that there was, and a boy that was the same.   
Genma sighed and walked from the dojo. He knew he had done the right thing in bringing Ranma here, but sometimes it was hard to see that. More and more of Nodoka had been showing up in Ranma since he had come to live with the Tendou's. It seemed that by interacting with people his mother's morals came to the surface easier, yet he slipped just as easily. Cologne and Ryoga and the multiple challenges dragged him back to his old self. The curse dragged him back time and time again, yet had he not seen him give up his chance again and again to save Akane or other people?   
As the first year had passed and now most of the second, he had seen flashes of the man he had tried to create, but it was not Saotome Genma that had done it, it was Ranma that had done it. It was like gristle had stuck in his craw when he realized that he had brought Ranma down in the first place. He was just glad he had brought him here, yet now everything was going to fall apart again.  
Genma realized how important the Tendou's were to Ranma. They had become his surrogate family. The three daughters were like sisters to him, even Akane and his son had a relationship that though bizarre was comforting to Ranma at times. Losing all of that was going to be a massive blow to Ranma, maybe the last one that he could take.   
More than anyone Genma knew how much Ranma had suffered in his life. The curse had almost destroyed him, and probably still might. The only thing holding him together was the sense of stability in Ner- ima. Despite all of the problems, they gave him an outlet, a way to cope and something he could deal with in a way. But if Ranma lost that and he forced Ranma to go to Shampoo to save his life, he wondered what could happen.   
His son had the makings of the strongest martial artist in history. At his age he was able to hold his own against great fighters like the Master and Cologne. If he suddenly lost everything again, would he turn against the world and the people on it? Ranma had the potential to literally become a Destroyer, a rogue warrior burning for vengeance against a world that had not cared. Could he take that chance with his son?  
It would almost be better to let him die. It would mean he would take his own life, that was a given, but it solved so many problems. He would explain to his wife, tell her he was sorry and let her remove his head. It was the last act that was possible after he allowed his son to die.  
But to allow him to die was giving up on his son. Genma had done that too many times in his life. Just given up. He knew he was not strong, was in fact weak and cowardly, but his son had never been like that. Ranma had faced everything with the same confident courage and flair that marked him as a great fighter. He at least deserved a chance to make his own decision, to find his own way. For all he knew, Ranma would turn from his and Akane's wishes and do what he pleased.  
Yet then why hadn't he with all of fiancees? Because he is bound by honor and duty. It is all he has. I made sure of that. Genma hung his head in shame. He did not know what to do. If he gave his son up, something terrible could happen. If he didn't, well Ranma died. The boy did not deserve that either. Do I trust him or don't I? I wish we had talked as Father and Son more. I don't know what he wants, what he dreams of, what he needs. I can't decide. I don't want to.  
With an anguished cry, Genma threw himself into the pond, turning himself into a panda, retreating from the world and his decision. Pandas did not think, pandas did not have to deal with life and death choices for their sons. Pandas were free. Then why do I still feel so bad?  
  
Nabiki listened intently to Dr. Toufu for a few moments before a smile appeared on her face. "I'll tell them right away. We'll be down there first thing in the morning. Akane and Saotome-san will be ecstatic. Bye." She hung up the phone and headed upstairs to her sister's room. I'll tell Akane first. She deserves a break. I just hope Dr. Toufu is right about this.   
  
  
  
Author's Notes:  
  
I know that this part seems like a waste of time, well it isn't. You'll notice that I do these transitional pieces a lot. It is a way of advancing the story just enough that I keep some interest and at the same time spenmd good amount of time revealing characters. In this one it is mainly Genma and Akane that are revealed more, mostly Genma though. I've been concentrating a lot on Akane so far, and Ranma just seems to get explained naturally, go fig.  
Let me see. I explained about the Nabiki characterization last time. I just think she is like that. Now I know you are al probably telling me I should go figure Tendou Soun out, well I did, and personally I don't think he is a dense as many people think. I mean he is heavily into delusions of Akane marrying Ranma, but he has some common sense and odes use it. It jst takes a lot of strength to bring things forward. Don't worry, Soun gets explained later.  
Now Genma was a fun one to write. I didn't expect it to turn out like it did. I've always considered him a coward, and I think a lot of people do, but no one ever really digs into him. I'm going to do much more digging with him just now, latter I will, but not now. Genma and Ranma have problems they need to work out and that is just not important to this Chapter. I love giving away tidbits that really make no sense until you read them later.  
A few more clarifacations. Yes Ranma did say I love you to Akane in Atonement and Akane returned the sentiment; however, their relationship is so insecure and on such tenuous footing, especially with the engagement broken off that it is about right that Akane would not know Ranma's true feelings. He never said it to her after that or mentioned it. Instead he sort of acted like it did not happen (that is not in the story exactly) But they admitted their feelings under emotional duress and therefore it loses some of its sincerity and strength. Make sense? I hope so.  
I do have one apology to make to everyone that has been reading MASN. As you might have noticed it is Meiyo Ai soshite (not shoshite) Nikushimi. In the first title I wrote shoshite, and just did not realize it, then I copied it to the additional installments. That is not a real word. The real word is soshite. I noticed this several days ago and have fixed it. Also, soshite is used wrong. I just found that one out too, but I am not going to change the title. Soshite is used like and' to connect sentences. Basically it means that the preceding happens at the same time that the following does. The correct word to use was to' which is a connector for nouns basically like and' in English; however I'm not changing this to MATN, MASN sounds better.   
Oh many people have asked about meaning, and here is the answer.  
Meiyo - honor  
Ai - love   
soshite - and  
Nikushimi - hate  
  
Personally I recommend the Random House Japanese-English dictionary for translation. It is very useful and has most words you would need. But then I also use a second dictionary from a self-teaching course, that course's instruction book and a small black book called Japanese in 30 Hours, that deals with all of the grammar.  
  
Well this is long enough for my notes. I still ask for comments and criticism, preferably criticism, but my ego doesn't mind praise.   
BAP  
CRUNCH  
"Itai! Stop that! No, not the mallet. Arghh...SPLAT"  
  
Sorry my humility just smashed my ego into very tiny pieces. I think I see one of the pieces in the cat's food dish, better go get it while I can. "Hey, Rocky, get away from there. That's mine!"   
  
Until Next time  
Joseph A. Kohle  
  
----*----*----*----*----*----*----*----*----*----  
All rights and priveleges to Ranma Nibunnoichi   
belong to Rumiko Takahashi. The characters of her   
series are used without her permission for the   
purpose of entertainment only. This work of fic-  
tion is not meant for sale or profit.   
  
All original characters are the creation of the  
author. All copyright privileges to these chara-  
cters are reserved for the author.  
  
This story is a product of the author's hard work   
and imagination. Do not modify, add to, or make   
use of any part of this work without the author's   
knowledge and consent. Please feel free to archive   
this work.   
  
Comments and criticism are welcome.   
Written by Joseph A. Kohle, (c) 1997.   
Send all comments to Ashira@worldnet.att.net 


	7. Vol 2 Chap 3

DISCLAIMER: Ranma Nibunnoichi is the property of Takahashi Rumiko, Shogakukan Inc, Shonen Sunday Comics, and Viz Video. It is used without their permission and is not intended for profit but only for the enjoyment of fans of the Ranma series. All characters within this fic that are not the property of the above mentioned are copyrighted to the author, Joseph Kohle, January 1997. This work of fiction is the result of the author's hard work and is for the enjoyment of others. Please do not change, modify, or use any segment of this story without the author's knowing and written consent. Feel free to archive this work.  
  
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Meiyo Ai soshite Nikushimi  
  
A Ranma Nibunnoichi Fanfic  
by Joseph Kohle   
Part II: The Judgement of Boukyaku  
Chapter III Facing the Truth  
  
  
"No, no, no, no, NO!" Ranma shouted, slamming his fist into the red earth with each word. Each blow scattered earth, leaving behind a slightly deeper hole. "I can take being dead. I can take eternal loneli- ness, but I will not spend eternity with her! Do you got that? Do you?!" He screamed at the burning sky. Somewhere, some god was listening.  
"Will you stop that?" Ranma-onna demanded imperiously, walking up to the crouched form of Ranma and grabbing his shoulders. Ranma shuddered at the touch and wrenched his shoulders free, retreating from her reach.  
"You've ruined my life long enough. I don't need this. Don't you have anything better to do than bother me?" He struggled to his feet, weary and battered both mentally and physically. "I hate you," He seethed between clenched teeth.  
Ranma-onna gave him a hurt look, her bottom lip trembling slightly. "You don't really mean that? After all that I've done for you?"  
"All you've done for me?" Ranma snapped incredulously. That did it. She was going to get it, real or not real. "Do you have any idea what you've done for me? Because of you, Akane and I are barely together. Because of you, I have some misguided fool trying to date me. Because of you, I've gotten into more trouble than anyone can possibly imagine. And you ask me if I really hate you." His eyes were glowing in fury at that moment. He stalked up to her and halted in front of her, looking down into her eyes.  
"I don't hate you. I despise you, I loathe you, I find everything about you contemptible, disgusting, nauseous, infuriating, insufferable," he was fast running out of adjectives to use, "Stupid, monstrous, pathetic, disgusting."  
"You've already said that one," Ranma-onna said sweetly, smiling into Ranma's suddenly confused face.  
"Nani?"   
"You already used disgusting, but then you've used the same three or four insults for Akane for the past year and half, why should you suddenly get creative?"  
"Why you little bitch!" He lunged for her, trying to grab her. Ran- ma-onna ducked and started running, her laughter tinkling through the air. "Get back here and fight like a man!" Ranma raged and started chasing the fleeing girl.  
"I'm a girl," Ranma-onna quipped back, "No wonder you have so much trouble with your fiancees if you can't figure out the difference between a guy and a girl, or was the distinction starting to blur in your mind." An animal growl of pure rage leapt from Ranma's throat as he launched into the air. The insult was just too much for him the bear. This girl would pay.  
His action was unexpected, and Ranma-onna suddenly found herself tackled by a very irate Ranma. He hit her hard, knocking her flat onto the ground, their bodies rolling across the cracked earth. Ranma wasn't sure what happened, but he found himself on the bottom, Ranma-onna straddling his torso, a serious look on her face.   
"I think I've had enough of this foolishness," she said, her eyes flashing, "Obviously you're not going to listen to me reasonably. Well fine then. If you don't want to listen to me then you can just die. I won't help you get out of here. I won't get you back to Akane. I won't do anything. Your death won't hurt me Ranma. I'll just go back to the pool and wait for the next unlucky individual." She lifted his shoulders and slammed them into the ground. Ranma grunted in pain.  
Getting to her feet, Ranma-onna glanced once at Ranma and then started walking away. Stunned, Ranma could only watch her walk away. Eventually though, her words filtered into his mind. I'm not dead. She can get me back to Akane. She doesn't have to help. She can get me back to Akane. "Wait!" He scrambled to his feet and started running after her.   
Ranma-onna ignored him and continued to walk away from him, her back stiff. "Wait, please!" Ranma called again, catching up with her. He quickly fell into step next to her. "What do you mean you can help me? Can you get me out of here?" She ignored him, turning head away from him.  
What the heck does she want? It's not like she didn't deserve what I gave her. What does she expect me to do, kiss her? He glanced over at her. She is someone to talk to, she says she can help, get me back to Akane. Am I really not dead? I wonder what happened. Maybe I should apologize.  
He almost choked on that one. That girl did not deserve his apolo- gy. She should be apologizing to me, but it is the only chance I got. Sighing he opened his mouth and started speaking. "I'm s-sorry for yelling at you, but what do you expect? It's not like living with you is very easy. Far from it."  
"How would it feel to be trapped in a pool for fifteen hundred years? To be constantly pushed down by the person carrying you? I suffer as much as you, Ranma." Her voice was soft, heartbreaking in its pain.  
"I never thought about that," Ranma stated quietly. Why am I talk- ing to her? She does not deserve this. She's not real.   
"I'm as real as you are," Ranma-onna said simply, stopping and facing him.  
"How? I thought that. I mean.. How can you do that? Stay outta my head!" His face was half confused, half infuriated.   
To make matters worse the girl started laughing. "Stay outta your head? I think that's quite impossible. Remember I'm part of you now."  
"Part of me?" Ranma asked, then an idea crossed his mind, "Does that mean I can read your.." She was nodding even before he finished. "This is too much." Sinking down to the ground, he cradled his head in his hands.   
Ranma-onna lowered herself down in front of him and gently placed a hand on his shoulder. At her touch he flinched slightly, but Ranma did not pull away from her this time. "I think we need to talk Ranma. It's important." Ranma could only nod his head.  
For a time they both sat in silence. Eventually Ranma looked up at his cursed form. Gazing at his cursed form for the first time in his life, he was very surprised. Being in that form and seeing himself as a girl in the mirror were very different from looking at her in real life. It proba- bly had something to do with accepting the change in perspective and automatically putting everything in relation to your own size, he decided after a moment.  
She was short, shorter than Akane by ten or so centimeters. She also had a thinner frame, with a wiry strength and flexibility more similar to Shampoo than anyone else he knew. She was also very beautiful. Being the girl, he knew he was good-looking, but seeing her as a male, his body reacted differently, telling him how desirable she actually was.   
He shook his head to clear his thoughts. Ranma-onna smiled slightly at him, her small nose wrinkling, and winked, "You're not that bad looking either. We'd probably make a good couple."  
"Nani?" Ranma stammered, "Listen you're cute and all, but that is ridiculous. I'm not getting involved with myself." That sounded really lame and he knew it. "Why don't we just talk. I've got a few questions."  
"Well at least you're finally making sense," she said quickly.   
Shooting her a dirty look, Ranma decided to ignore that comment. Instead he began to ask questions. "Okay, where am I, err we?"  
"Do you remember your last battle with Cologne?" Ranma scratch- ed his head and searched his memory. There was nothing there..wait, there was something. Some sort of challenge and a statue.  
"I-I don't know," he explained slowly, "I get pictures of things. I know I was challenged, and I remember a statue being thrown at me, but that is all. The last clear thing I remember is all that darkness, with the thing and the Other.." Stopping he looked closely at her, his eyes widening. "Th-that was you, wasn't it?"  
"Hai," she confirmed.  
"I guess I owe you my life," he conceded, "If you hadn't been there, I wouldn't be here now. Why did you help? I mean if you don't care if I die or anything."  
Ranma-onna blushed. "I wasn't entirely truthful with you. It's true that if you die, I'll be free of you, but dying is the least of your worries. If I had not helped you, you would have been consumed, your soul that is." Ranma's face blanched at that thought. "And if that had happened, I would have joined you."  
"Why? Why consumed? Why would you be consumed too?" Ranma asked in a rush. This was getting well beyond his ability of comprehen- sion.  
Sighing, Ranma-onna patted his thigh in sympathy. "I'll start at the beginning, maybe this will make some sense. Cologne challenged you to a fight after you broke your engagement with Shampoo; however she did not fight you. When you arrived there she placed a sort of curse on you. It is called the Judgement of Boukyaku. This is a punishment bestowed mostly upon Amazon males, but every so often a female has it imposed on herself." She shuddered for a second as she spoke. The subject obviously cut close to a personal memory, but Ranma was unable to figure it out.  
"So I'm in this Judgement now?"   
"Yes and no," she answered, "When the curse is placed on an Amazon they live like normal from the full moon to the rising of the new moon."  
"That sounds familiar," Ranma interjected, "I remember Cologne saying something about moons before I ended up in the darkness."  
Nodding, Ranma-onna continued, "But you are not an Amazon, so the curse had a different effect on you."  
"It put me here," Ranma deduced quickly.   
"No," she disagreed, "You were slowly being destroyed by Bouk- yaku. That is why you were having trouble remembering things. I was quite proud of you for holding out for so long. Boukyaku is very strong, and any normal man would have been ripped apart instantly." Ranma beamed at her, then his face clouded as he thought about what she had said.  
"You said I was not put here but was being destroyed. Why am I here then?"  
"Because of me," she answered simply.  
"Because of you?" he asked, "What do you have to do with any of this? Do you have some sort of strange power because you're dead?"  
"No, you see I was an Amazon before I died," she explained in a sad tone, "Only an Amazon can resist Boukyaku, not because they are Amazons, but because of rituals that are done over them when they are accepted as children in the tribe."  
"Boukyaku is a spirit that is searching for a way into the world. He needs a host for himself. The Amazons trapped him within thirteen statues, one for each matriarch. They used him to punish people, but they could not allow him to inhabit a living body, so they performed rituals over Amazon children to prevent that. This generation of Amazons has obviously forgotten that. By cursing you, Cologne is giving Boukyaku a chance to enter our world."  
"Whoa, slow down. You mean I'm going to be some demon when the new moon rises?" She nodded. Ranma groaned, his hands and head meeting again. "Can I get out of this?" he asked in a tone that barely hid his fear and own doubt.  
"I don't know. The only reason you're surviving now is because you are in your cursed form back in the real world. The Jusenkyo curse made you part Amazon in your cursed form, so it holds Boukyaku at bay, making it harder for him to attack you directly."  
"So he brought me here." Ranma finished in a hopeless voice.  
"Hai, but here you can actually fight him."  
Ranma shook his head. "I can't. He's much stronger than me. I mean I can hold him off, but not defeat him. Even doing that I'll slip and he'll get through. It'll only take one mistake and I'm done for. I almost didn't make it in that first fight."  
"That's not like you," Ranma-onna observed sadly, "You've never backed from anything, even if it was beyond you."  
"Hmph! Tell me about it."  
"So why now? Why in this?" Looking directly at him, she pleaded silently for an answer. Dropping his eyes, Ranma turned away. He did not want to explain his fears, his doubts.  
"Well, I'm waiting," she announced. He shook his head. "Tell me!" she demanded.  
"I don't know! Okay?" he shouted, "Maybe because I don't want to. Maybe because I realize it's useless." Maybe because I'm scared.  
"You're scared, aren't you?" Ranma-onna asked, moving closer to him, so their knees were touching.  
"Stay outta my head!" It lacked the force he wanted it to have. "I don't go into yours. Can't you just leave me in peace.?"  
"No, I can't." The answer confused Ranma. Why couldn't she?   
"I don't understand, why can't you?" This time he latched his gaze onto her eyes. Retreating from his intense, demanding expression, she found something interesting to look at between their knees.   
"If I leave you in peace," she said fearfully, her voice small and powerless compared to her normal tone, "I can die. If I leave you in peace, I have no one to be with, to talk to. You are all I have."  
"You talk to me?" Ranma asked, surprised by this revelation.  
Shaking her head in answer, Ranma-onna lifted her face and watch- ed him through lowered lids. "No, I can't talk to you, but it is almost the same thing. I get to hear your conversations, do what you do, feel what you feel. And in your dreams, we sometimes talk, just for a time. You never remember them, but then, they always end in fights. I know you hate me, but I can't leave you. If I did, I would simply vanish, become a wandering, lost soul. Through you I get to live again. Can you understand that?"  
"I-I think I can." This was really becoming confusing to him. How much of his inner self did she know? Did she know everything? Why should this matter anyway? I don't like her. I never have. I never will. He glanced at her, her sorrowful expression, her hurt posture. I can't like her, can I?  
"I always have to fight you, try and keep in you, so I can live. You deny me so much, push me down so much, that it becomes harder and harder to resist you. You're strong Ranma. What you do semi-consci- ously, I have to fight against with my whole being. Sooner or later, I'll lose, but does that stop me from fighting?" She shook her violently. "No, because I won't let that happen. I want to be alive. I want to be a part of you, even if it hurts you. I'm scared of losing, I'm scared of facing you, I'm also scared of what will happen if I don't fight. If I give up, then I lose it all. If you give up without a fight, then you'll lose it all, and so will I."   
"But if I fight now, and lose, then I cannot be saved. What if my friends and family are trying to help me now? What if they can get a cure? If I lose, I cannot go back to them. I'll be trapped here forever." A shrill note of terror and hysterics was entering his voice as he spoke. "I won't risk that. I want to go back. They'll find a cure. Don't I always rescue them? Don't I always find a way out eventually? Why can't they?"  
"Ranma, are you really going to place your safety in blind hope and faith? How do you even know that they know what is wrong with you?"  
Dumbfounded, Ranma only starred at his companion. "Exactly," Ranma-onna stated emphatically, "If you fight, you'll have a definite chance. Look, by yourself, without my physical help, you held out against Boukyaku in his own realm. This is his prison." She motioned around her at the world surrounding them. "Here I can help you. Together we are equal to him if not better. Is that a better chance than blind hope? At least try. You can always retreat and wait, but remember," she warned, "The longer we wait, the stronger he gets. I don't know how much longer until the new moon rises, but once it does, we won't be able to fight him. Please, if not for me or yourself, how about Akane? I know how you feel about her. Can you just give her up without a fight?" Ranma shook his head slowly. No he could not.  
"All right, you win. I'll try it," he finally conceded, "I will do what I can. If I can, I'll win. If not, I'll die. It's that easy. Are you satisfied?"   
Taking his hands, Ranma-onna tugged him to his feet. "I'm satis- fied." Smiling she urged him to walk with her. "We need to practice though. I have to teach you a few things. I don't want you to die."  
"What things?" Ranma asked curious, his interest taking hold of him. It had to be something to do with martial arts.  
"A few techniques that you'll need to know," she explained in an exasperated tone, "Really, you are incredibly dense!"  
"Hmph! Look whose talking tomboy" Ranma shouted back, starting to enjoy himself again. At least she is someone I can talk to.  
"Baka!"  
"Bimbo!"  
"Hentai!"  
"That's your fault!"  
"Oh yeah, who was stupid enough to fall in!"  
They walked on, shouting insults back and forth, both enjoying themselves for a time, forgetting about the danger they were embroiled in. Some things were more important than others, sanity was one of them.  
  
"Hedo Misaki? That's in Okinawa right?" Akane asked, her voice betraying her doubt about the whole situation. They were gathered around a table in Dr. Toufu's office, herself, Dr. Toufu and Saotome Genma. A cool, spring breeze spilled through an open window rustling a few sheets of paper on the table and tugging slightly at her clothes. Under other circumstances it would have been pleasant, but now it just went unheeded among all the conflicts warring within her mind.  
"That's right. Ouchi-san lives somewhere around the area. Professor Ikeda says if anyone can help, he can," Dr. Toufu explained once again.  
"It sounds like a great big, wild-goose chase," Genma said dubious- ly, "Some guy in Nepal says there is this guy he's barely heard of in Okinawa that can heal my son. Is it even worth going?"   
"But what else do we have?" Akane asked becoming sick of Saotome-san's pessimistic view of the world, "If we don't at least try, we have to accept Cologne's terms. I don't want that unless absolutely necessary." Turning she looked directly at Saotome-san. "Ranma would've tried."  
Genma started guiltily, his face blanching under the admonition. "I guess we have no choice then. I won't let my son down again. Okay Ono Toufu, when can we leave?"  
Dr. Toufu gave a short laugh and shook his head. "No, no, no. I'm sorry if I misled you, but I can't go. I've too many patients here. Be- sides I would not be much help." He gave them an apologetic look. "You're on your own this time. Just take Ranma with you. That way, Ouchi-san can cure him there, instead of trying to explain the procedure to you."  
Akane nodded quickly in agreement. It was a sound plan. She did not think that she would be able to memorize and perform a ceremony to save Ranma's life. Uncertainty in her own abilities would destroy the whole thing, probably causing a catastrophic event. Her cooking always turned out horrendous, no matter what she did. What might happen if she tried to concoct a remedy? The thought was a sobering one.  
"However, I would not wait too long before you leave. Tonight will be the seventh since this all started. That means you have seven left."  
"And we still have to get there and look for Ouchi-san," Akane finished for him, "I guess we've gotta leave soon."  
"Tomorrow?" Genma asked her.  
Why is he asking me? It's not like this is my decision alone? He's older. He's used to traveling. Can't he decide? "Sure," she answered sullenly, deciding it was easier to agree than argue with him. She was not looking forward to traveling with Ranma's father. Although it had been rare, there were a few times that Ranma had told her some of the more ridiculous and stupid things his father had done while on their training trips. If he tries anything, I'll kill him.  
"Great!" he exclaimed, "It's going to take us a few days to hitchhike there."  
"Nani?" Akane started, shocked by the suggestion, "You think anyone is going to let us hitch a ride off of them while carrying a comatose body?" What was with Ranma's father? "Don't you have any money to rent a car at least. We can drive down south and take a ferry to Okinawa. It's not that hard. C'mon. You do work here, and that money is spent on nothing." Genma was visibly shrinking under Akane's onslaught, actually he was beginning to cower as Akane's anger began to take hold. "No wonder Ranma has so many problems. This is all your fault. Why can't you just be human for once? He needs you, and you're doing the same stupid things?"   
Genma opened his mouth to answer the accusations, but nothing came form his mouth. How could he respond? It was all true. His head dropped in shame. I've failed my son again.   
"Did you hear me?" Akane's shout broke his thought, forcing him to look up at his tormentor. She was enraged. "Actually I don't care if you did. I'm going to help Ranma if I have to bankrupt my family. If you come to your senses, then I'll listen to you. Until then leave me alone!" Turning on her heel she marched from the office, slamming the door behind her.   
Genma flinched when the door slammed. For a time he sat quietly in his chair, before getting up and walking to the faucet. Turning the tap, he watched the cold water spill from the faucet, splattering in the stain- less steel sink. Hesitantly, he reached for the water.  
"This is all your fault!" The words echoed through his mind. "No wonder Ranma has so many problems." I don't deserve to be a father. I don't deserve any of this. Nodoka was always right. "This is all your fault Oyaji!" Ranma's voice echoed through his mind. Genma cringed and touched the water, a small bit running over his finger.  
"Sure I'll learn the Nekoken. I trust you." The small boy's voice stopped his hand, pulled it back. "When are we going home? I miss Okaasan. Okay, just one more month. Of course I trust you." "No, Otoosan, I can do it. Trust me. I trust you." "I don't want to leave Ucchan. But.. But.. Really? Leave me a dojo of my own? Hai, I'll do everything. We can come back? Right? Okay, I trust you. I love you Otoosan." "Cursed Training Grounds, huh? As long as you're sure. Okay then, I trust you. Let's go Oyaji." "Fine we'll stay for awhile Oyaji, but I'm leaving to look for the cure as soon as I can. No, I don't trust you. Why should I?"  
"What have I done?" he asked in a stunned voice, "My son did everything for me. Everything. And I can't do one simple thing for him. Give him a chance?" His hand wavered next to the water, his soul howvering on the dark edge of an abyss. "Why can't you just be human once?" Akane screamed in his mind. His hand jerked back to fall to his side. "I can be human. I don't deserve to have a son like Ranma, but he at least deserves a father once in his life." He pushed himself to his feet and left the office, not even seeing Dr. Toufu smiling in satisfaction behind his desk. Saotome Genma had to help his son.  
  
Slowly, Cologne backed away from the open window. The threat of discovery was not a concern for her, but it was sloppy to let one's guard down. So she cautiously slunk from the clinic before hopping to the rooftops and speeding across the unknown highway belonging to the few privileged of Nerima  
So the fools would try to cure Ranma on their own. It was an applaudable sentiment yet destined for failure. These weak Japanese had obviously once again underestimated the skill and determination of the Amazons. Well they would be unpleasantly surprised at the end of their road. They would make a choice and son-in-law would die, no matter what they did.  
It was really very simple to do. She only needed to find Ouchi-san before they did, and that would be easy. Drugs and potions were used for more than obtaining love. In Okinawa, there were going to be some very tight lipped inhabitants. They'll never find Ouchi-san.  
Cackling, she bounded out of the Nerima ward and made her way steadily south. Even on foot she could beat those soft foreigners. This was almost too easy. No, it was too easy, like taking candy frm a baby. Once I'm back in China, then I'll once again have a challenge. Too bad I must kill son-in-law. He would become a formidable opponent later in life. What a pity. She laughed and bounded onto the back of a truck, before settling down to ride through the day ahead.  
  
Akane stalked down the street muttering evilly under her breath. "Am I the only one who cares abut him? I used to hate him and now I seem to be the only friend he has on this earth. His father is too cowardly and self-centered to stand up for him. Ukyou, well I haven't seen her. In fact no one has seen her since Ranma broke off their engagement...and Shampoo."  
"That bitch..th-this is all her fault. If it wasn't for her, Ranma would be fine. I'd not be in this. I could just go home and hit the baka." Her voice cracked in grief and rage as she blindly took a turn and then another a few blocks later.  
"Why did she have to come to Japan? Why did she have to bring that withered ghoul? I hate them. I hate them all. Why do they have to make it so hard? And I thought she loved Ranma. She doesn't care for him, if she is just going to let him die." She wanted to, desired with her whole heart to punch something, someone. It was no fair to her. It just seemed like she was facing the world alone, carrying the entire load on her back.  
Genma's nonchalant attitude had infuriated her. With her emotions in a riotous uproar, swinging from grief to anger to depression to helplessness, she had been in no mood for his actions. Coupled with too little sleep and an uneven appetite over the last few days, she was in a dangerous and very unstable mood.  
And now, now things were just eating away at her. She was building up her anger like a geyser built up pressure before violently exploding upwards. That point was quickly arriving, and she needed an outlet, something to release the pent up anger upon. Generally it was Ranma or bricks. But breaking bricks was not the answer now, and she had no reason to hit Ranma, nor any desire to. No, she needed someone to fight. Kunou, Kodachi, Shampoo..  
Suddenly her surroundings filtered into her mind and she smiled wickedly. Maybe today was going to be a very good day after all. Cracking her knuckles in anticipation she walked up to and then into the Nekohaten, the tiny bell tinkling and announcing her arrival. Fresh cat was going to be the special today.  
Bright light illuminated the interior, giving the place a light and airy feeling. A dozen tables were scattered seemingly at random about the main room. In the rear a staircase could be seen leading up into the darker, upper floor, which Akane knew held the sleeping quarters for the three residents. Off to her right a swinging door led into the kitchen, a counter was open to the kitchen area to make serving food easier. That was the most likely place for Shampoo to be.  
The restaurant was empty, the lunch rush was still a few hours away. That just made it easier for Akane. She did not like people getting accidentally hurt when she fought. Something was not right however. Neither Mousse or Shampoo had slipped into the dinning area to check on their newly arrived customer.   
Curiously, Akane walked to the serving window and stuck her head into the kitchen, careful to check in case Shampoo was waiting to ambush her. An empty room, looking like it had not been used for several hours was all she saw. "I wonder where she is?" Akane muttered softly. Some of her anger was disappearing under the mystery of the empty Nekohanten.   
She started as a soft noise echoed through the room. "What was that?" Curious, she looked around, until she heard it again. It was coming from above her. Glancing up she saw a small vent. So Shampoo was upstairs. With a light step, Akane turned and headed for the rear of the restaurant and the stairs.  
Quickly Akane bounded up the stairs without a sound. She found herself at the end of a hallway that stretched to the front of the build- ing. There were three doors on the right and four on the left. The muffled sounds were emanating from the last door on the left.  
Up here she could make it out more clearly. It was female, and did not sound remotely like the old ghoul, so it had to be Shampoo. Care- fully, Akane made her way down the hall, avoiding any loose boards that would give her away.   
With each step the muffled sound of Shampoo became clearer, yet they were still beyond her understanding until she reached the girl's door. Light spilled from the small crack of the slightly opened door, throwing a line of liquid silver across the dark floorboards.   
She was about to push open the door, when she realized what she was hearing. Crying. Shampoo was crying in her room! Shocked and slightly curious, Akane's anger receded as she knelt by the crack in the door and listened.  
Shampoo was crying softly in Mandarin, making it impossible for Akane to understand. However, she sometimes caught Ranma's name among the sobs. Was it possible that Shampoo was actually worried about Ranma? That she did not want him to die, or even come this close to dying? It made Akane think. "Maybe this not all that bimbo's fault," she decided in a quiet voice.  
Slowly she got to her feet intending to leave, when she heard Shampoo call out in Japanese. "Shampoo no want Husband die, but violent girl won't give him up, and Great-grandmother won't heal unless marry Shampoo. Shampoo no want Husband to die. Shampoo love Husband. Shampoo...." The rest was lost as Akane fled from the Nekohanten, tears threatening in her eyes.   
Her hatred of Shampoo disappeared when she heard those words. It was the ghoul's fault. All the ghoul's fault. Shampoo had nothing to do with it. The Amazon suffered just as she did. Why did everyone have to suffer so much? Why? Why?  
  
"This is useless." Ranma through his hands up in the air and sat down on the ground.   
"Just once more," Ranma-onna pleaded with him, "You almost got it right that time. Just once more."  
"Why?" Ranma asked in a less than cordial tone, "What's the point of the attack? I can already tell it is only a quarter of the strength of any of my other ki attacks, and that will be only after I practice it for a few months. It's useless."  
"No it's not," she said sitting down next to Ranma, "It is intended for a different purpose. This is not a physical attack, but rather a spiritual attack. If we were in the real world it would do nothing against a physical opponent."  
"What would it do?" Ranma asked curiously.  
His companion's eyes lost their focus for a second as she looked for the memory. "I really don't know," she finally conceded, "I developed these after I died and became part of the pool. At first they were defenses against those who I became attached too. I used them to keep from being submerged."  
Ranma was very confused. "I don't understand," he finally admitted.  
Sighing in frustration, Ranma-onna pushed herself to her feet and paced in a circle around Ranma for a few moments before sitting back down. "Okay let me see if I can explain it. I was trapped in the pool for about two hundred years before someone fell in and became cursed. Some things changed for me at that point. When I became part of someone else, I discovered I could exert my will on them, almost communicate with them. Yet they automatically fought it, whether consciously or not. Because of this, I had to fight them to keep my place. Some of them were easier than the others, but the first one was very strong and I needed a way to defeat him.  
I don't know how I did it, but I came up with these attacks I'm trying to teach you. The one you've almost got is very simple. All you're doing is creating a damper with your ki. This makes it harder for any attacks to get through to you, sort of like weighting down your opponents arms in a battle, but the best thing is that you use less than they do to keep it in place, and it does not matter how strong you are and how strong it is. No matter who does it, it is the same strength, the same affect."  
"Why is that?" Ranma asked more interested than before. This could be useful.  
"I'm not sure, I think it uses part of your opponent's strength and includes that in the block."  
"Oh, I guess that makes sense. So the stronger the opponent the stronger your technique."  
"Yes and no, it is proportionally the same to the enemy's strength, so really you gain nothing accept not having to expend more for the same amount of protection. Now will you try it again?"  
Nodding in agreement, Ranma stood up and cleared his mind. The connection to his ki came naturally. The first time he had learned to use the attacks he had found it difficult to find the inner strength and bal- ance of energy. It had taken days of meditation to find it, but once found, as long as the balance was maintained, daily practice and exer- cises that cleared the mind and brought body and soul together kept the connection in place. So now all he had to do was surrender to himself.  
Now came the tricky part. He had conditioned himself to use his ki in massive attacks. Therefore it naturally went to one of those attacks depending on how he was thinking. That was why he shouted the names of his attacks before he used them. The words meant nothing, they just gave his mind an image to focus on and forced the ki into that shape and pattern.   
This attack seemed to have no name though, so he could not use that method. Instead he concentrated on what Ranma-onna had shown him. It was not a physical sight, but a mental impression. He had the impression of a giant pillow that spread the attack outward, or even an empty center where all the force of the attack was spread outward. Well at least a certain portion of it. It was like she created an eye in the middle of a storm, like a hurricane. That's it!  
"Hurricane Eye Deflection Technique!" He felt the ki rush from his hands to form a swirling mass in front of him. It was not exactly like what Ranma-onna had shown him, but it seemed to work the same way. This was proven as Ranma-onna threw a ki attack at him. It hit the defense, scattering to the outside of it, leaving a calm in the center.   
"Let it go," Ranma-onna instructed him. For the first time, Ranma realized he was actually holding the attack in place. a small trickle of his ki continued to pulse out on its own, without his direction, feeding the swirl, holding it together. Consciously he broke the connection, watching as the swirling energy disappeared.  
"Was that right?" Ranma asked uncertainly. He was not sure that was exactly what she had wanted.  
"That's better than mine!" Ranma-onna complimented him enthusi- astically, "Mine allows part of the attack through, because it can only absorb so much. Yours will take full attacks until it can no longer be contained by your ki. Of course you'll have to be careful. Don't drain all of your ki preventing attacks." Ranma mumbled his agreement. That made sense to him. Fights were lost by concentrating on one single technique instead of a variety.  
"But why did I not get the same result as you?" Ranma asked, "I pictured it the same way, but it came out different."  
Ranma-onna was silent for a moment before speaking. "I think it is because you are a man and I'm a woman."  
"Huh?"  
"Overall I think they both will prevent the same amount of damage, but mine will take a long view, protecting me no matter how long the fight is, always lessening the blows I receive. Yours is made to take the brunt and deflect all damage for a short time, giving you the ability to attack without worrying about ki attacks. It is all in the way men and women think. You need a noticeable advantage, and prefer a quick solution. I look at the long run, the overall effectiveness. That is why they are different. I know I can't take a stronger opponent quickly, so I spread out my defense. Remember a ki attack is formed by your own personality and mind, so it takes on characteristics of you."  
"I think I understand," he stated and then looked at the ground. It was hard to train when his mind was being innundated by so many new and obscure ideas. This was hard on him. He did not like the place, he hated why he was here. He hated being trapped, forced into something he could not avoid. Fight or die, that was his choice, and neither one of them were on his list of things to do. Why did things like this have to happen to him?  
"Can we stop for a while?" he asked carefully. He did not want to offend his companion, although a fight would probably raise his spirits. Even that felt like an empty solution though. He hated this. "I don't feel like training anymore." Ranma-onna nodded.  
"Yes, but I still want you to learn those other three attacks."   
"I will, it's just that.." He left it hanging and flailed his arms in a use- less attempt to convey something even he did not understand.  
"What's wrong?" Ranma-onna asked.  
"I don't know. It's this place....I..I just don't like it. I'm sick of it. It feels like it is talking to me, trying to drag me in," Ranma explained.  
"Don't let this place become real for you," she warned him carefully.  
"Why?"  
"This is not a real world. It is a world created within the statue Boukyaku is trapped within. Really this place should be darkness, like you were in before. Boukyaku formed it into an image he liked. If you start believing it is real, it will be easier for it to suck you in. You must deny Boukyaku at all times. The more you give to it, the stronger it becomes and the easier it will be for Boukyaku to beat you."  
"Is that why you stopped me from eating that fruit, and going to that tree?" Ranma asked quickly. Her reasons for appearing to him were still unclear.  
"Yes, I realized you were in trouble and had to help. I could not let Boukyaku win. I would not let you give up that easily."  
"Why?"  
"I like you." Ranma-onna smiled a bit at him. "I was so much like you. Headstrong, egotistical, a strong martial artist, flamboyant, arrogant, but still a decent person. You have your good spots, and I think you can become something. That's why I helped you. That and if you were sucked into oblivion, I would have to share your body with Boukyaku." She shuddered at the thought.  
Ranma watched her with a curious expression on his face. Hundreds of questions were running through his mind, but he asked the simplest one. "What is your name?"  
Startled, Ranma-onna stared at him for a second, a small smile formed on her face. "My name is Xian Lin. I was an Amazon, until I..until I killed myself." She fell silent and turned away.  
"Sorry, I didn't want to bring up bad memories, Xian Lin. I just wanted to thank you for helping me." Gently he reached out and took her hand. "Maybe we can help each other out. We need to get out of here, and I think you want to be free of me." Xian Lin nodded.   
"I'll make you a deal. I'll learn what you want me to, and get out of here. In return I'll find a way to free you. Agreed?"   
A bright smile lit Xian Lin's face. "Oh thank you, thank you. Any- thing to be free of this. You've no idea about the pain of living inside another person."   
"C'mon," Ranma said, "We have work to do. Let's go onto that next technique." Xian Lin quickly began explaining and showing him what to do. Ranma watched intently, for once a useful purpose, something he could feel good about, shining before him. I will get out of here. I'll help her. I will get back to Akane. Cologne will not keep me here. She is going to pay, big time.  
  
Cologne shivered slightly as she jumped from the rear of the truck onto the streets of Osaka. She shrugged, someone had to be threat- ening her, but it did not matter. All of her powerful rivals were dead or soon to be dead.   
It was night, the clear sky showing only a few bright stars because of the glare of the city lights. The night air was chilly but invigorating, sending a brief shiver across her body. Ignoring it, Cologne took a deep breath and began to make her way towards the airport. She had a plane to sneak aboard, so she could get to Okinawa on time.  
  
It was early evening when Akane opened the front door and returned home. The place was peaceful. Kasumi was in the kitchen, the sounds of dinner being made filling the living area. As she walked past the eating area and to the stairs she saw her father sitting on the rear porch, watching the koi pond with a thoughtful look on his face.   
Not wanting to disturb him, Akane slipped past him on silent feet, and made her way to the stairs and up to her room. At her door she stopped and turned around, walking down to the other end of the hall, where the guest room was located.   
As usual, the door was shut. Without a second thought, Akane opened it and walked in. She wanted to spend some time with Ranma. What she saw inside, brought her up short. Ukyou was sitting silently by Ranma's bedside, holding her hand.  
Jealousy reared its green head. Holding Ranma's hand, comforting him, watching over him was her job. He was her fiancee. She was about to let lose her anger at Ukyou when a small voice actually stopped her, reminding her. You're no longer his fiancee, neither is Ukyou. She is his friend, probably very worried about him. Give her a chance.  
Red with shame, Akane gave into her own reason and stepped into the room, closing the door behind her. Ukyou jumped when it clicked shut. Glancing behind her, she saw Akane and started in surprise.  
Hastily, she stumbled to her feet. "I'm sorry. Kasumi said I could come up and see him. I..I just heard from Nabiki. I didn't know. I was so worried.." A single tear fell from her eye, rolling down her cheek and then she was crying.  
Akane was rooted in place by Ukyou's tears. She was not a friend of Ukyou, but she really did not hate the girl. In many ways she envied her. She was strong resourceful, pretty, and very independent. She was everything Akane wanted to be. So she was in unknown territory on what to do. Should she comfort Ukyou? Just let her grief run its course?   
A single sob broke Ukyou's lips and Akane decided. It was too much like what she had suffered through. And when she had broken down, if Nabiki had not been there, she did not want to think about what might have happened.  
Gently, she moved beside Ukyou and took her hand, bringing her down to the chair she had been sitting in. Then she dragged another chair beside Ukyou's and simply held her hand while she cried.  
"It's okay, Ukyou," Akane soothed her, "No one has seen you, and I was just so..so worried that I didn't think to tell you. I'm sorry. I should've told you."   
"Don't worry, he'll get better. Dr. Toufu told us of a man who can help Ranma. We're taking him thee tomorrow," Akane announced the good news, hoping to calm Ukyou some. It worked.  
Ukyou's sobs dribbled off after a few moments, and she turned her bloodshot eyes on Akane. "Really?" she asked, "You're not just saying that?"  
"Of course I'm not just saying that!" Akane replied indignantly, "Do you think I want Ranma to die?" She remembered when his heart stopped, remembered the blood pooling underneath him as he lay on her floor, the tanto clutched tightly in his fist. "I don't want him to die. I don't want to let him go," she said in a hushed whisper.  
"So you're going to give him to Shampoo?" Ukyou asked in an accusing tone.   
Akane looked into Ukyou's eyes and then glanced down at the still form of Ranma. She realized she could never let him die, no matter what. Even if it meant losing him to Shampoo, she had no right to let him die. He would do everything to keep her alive even giving his own life. He loved her that much. He loved her. Suddenly she was not so worried, the dangers and stress of the last week washing away from her in this new realization.  
"I'll promise that I won't stand in the way of his marriage to Shampoo. I'll give up my claim on him. We're no longer engaged anyway," she said the last sadly, and Ukyou caught the tone, and watched her with a speculative expression on her face. "I can't let him die. That's too much."  
Suddenly she smiled. "But we are going to find a cure. Dr. Toufu told Saotome-san and myself of an Ouchi-san in Okinawa who has cured this curse before. We can get Ranma cured if we can find him, I know we'll find him! I just know it!"  
"So you'll give him to Shampoo. The one fiancee who doesn't deserve him," Ukyou demanded violently. Stunned by this sudden onslaught, Akane was fixed to her seat, as Ukyou stood, her eyes flashing dangerously. "Don't you care for him? She doesn't deserve him. He's mine, Ranchan is mine. I'll never give him up!"  
"Would you rather have him dead?" Akane snapped as she found herself on her feet, facing the enraged Ukyou. Ukyou looked perplexed, like she had not thought of what death really meant. "No one gets him then. We bury him, and never see him again, never touch him, never see him happy.." Akane was crying now, tears streaming down her face.  
"Have you ever faced death? Huh? My mother died..Ranma almost died in my arms because of that stupid `accident', he died on Dr. Toufu's table." Ukyou's face blanched as she heard this.   
"H-he die..die.." She shook her head unable to believe what Akane was saying.  
"Hai! His heart stopped. He was dead." His skin had been so cold, so cold. Just like Okaasan. "I don't want to deal with that again. I can't.. I can't!" Akane sobbed, sinking back into the chair and turning to Ranma. She grabbed Ranma-onna's hand as if to reassure herself. The warm flesh slipped easily into her palm. "Don't leave me Ranma, please don't leave me."  
Ukyou involuntarily had her gaze drawn to Ranma's still form. Nabiki had just said he was under a curse, and would die unless they met Cologne's terms. She had thought it was another one of the stupid schemes that always fell through, she had not been worried.   
Instead she had only been thinking about Ranchan dumping her, calling off the engagement. Even if he had done it with all of his fiancees, it still hurt. She had not wanted to see him, speak to him. She was angry at him. She would not do anything until he apologized, but now this. After speaking with Nabiki she had come here, looking for her Ranchan. After nearly a week of keeping herself from everyone and every thing because of the pain, she had forced herself to come here, hoping to gain Ranchan back.  
Everything had disappeared as she had rushed over to Ranchan's side. He needed her. She would protect him and nurse him back to health, and then he would fall in love with her and they could be married again. But what Akane said. Ranchan dying..No it was not possible Ranchan was always okay. Nothing stopped him.  
He died, like her own mother. "No, no, no! I didn't know. I'm sorry. I don't want him to die. Don't go!" Her tears began again as she joined Akane next to Ranma.   
For several minutes neither of the girls spoke, as they just watched Ranma-onna and let their emotions run their course. Finally Akane sniffled a bit and wiped her eyes. "It hurts when you think about it. I try not to, but every time I see him like this..." She did not finish the thought and instead patted Ranma-onna's hand.  
"I never realized," Ukyou said softly, "I didn't think it was real. When have we ever taken anything seriously. I never thought anyone would be hurt, but now. I'd give him up too, just to keep him alive. I'm sorry I yelled. I didn't think." Ukyou felt Akane's hand squeeze her forearm. She looked over and saw Akane smiling shyly at her.  
"Arigato," Akane said in gratitude, "I wasn't sure if it was the right decision. It's one less thing to carry around."  
"No problem," Ukyou shrugged absently, "Why do we care about some guy who dumped us?"  
"Because he didn't dump us. He just wants to make his own choice. He hates being forced, and he had duty to each of us and so he said to hell with all of it," Akane said, smiling at Ranma-onna, "He explained it to me when he broke our engagement. I guess I understand, and I think he was right."  
"Hai. But it still hurts. I love him so much. I don't know what I'd do if I couldn't have him." Akane remained silent. She was not going to hurt Ukyou anymore. Ranma was right. Too many people were suffering. No need for one more.  
"C'mon, let's go get some tea," Akane suggested after a pregnant silence, "I can never stay too long by him. It is so depressing." Standing up, she offered her hand. Ukyou reluctantly took it and followed Akane out of the guest room with a last glance back at her Ranchan.  
  
"So you're going to look for this man on your own?" Ukyou asked curiously. They were both sitting on the back porch watching the night sky as they sipped their herbal tea. An empty plate that held only the crumbs of the cookies Kasumi had made was between them. "But why? Won't anyone help you?"  
"I thought Saotome-san would, but he was planning on hitchhiking, and that will take too long and be too dangerous. I've got some money saved, enough to get Ranma and me to Okinawa and back. He's saved my life so many times that this is the least I can do for him," she answered seriously, her eyes lost in the past.  
"But, by yourself? That's foolish Akane," Ukyou warned her, "At least take someone along, Ryoga or even Kunou would be preferable to going on your own."  
"Well I would, but Ryoga is lost again and I don't have enough money even if he wasn't, and Kunou. I'm sorry, even for Ranma I would not be alone with that hentai," she stated angrily.  
Ukyou stopped talking for a time and watched the steam rise from her tea. "I will go with you," she offered quietly, her eyes still focused on her tea.  
"Nani?" Akane exclaimed, "You-you'd help me. But I thought we were rivals? And I can't even pay for you."  
"That's okay, I've got enough money," she answered, "And I guess it does no good to just leave it sitting. Even if we're rivals, I think you care about Ranchan. And what good does it do either of us to fight when Ranchan needs our help. He deserves our help."  
"Soo-de su, My son deserves more than I've given him." Ukyou and Akane both turned around to see Saotome Genma standing behind them, studying both of them. Finally his eyes settled on Akane. "I'm sorry for my actions. You were right about me. I don't deserve a son like Ranma. I've let him down too many times. Not this one. I will be his father in deed as well as name." He reached into his gi and pulled out a ticket envelope. He handed it to Akane.   
"What's this?" Akane asked curiously, still recovering from her shock. Adults almost never apologized to children. Especially admitting that they were less than expected or had grievous flaws.  
"Your ticket. We leave tomorrow morning from Tokyo Inter- national Airport." He faced Ukyou. "You are welcome to come with us, I have an extra ticket I was going to allow one of the Tendou's to use. It's yours if you want it." Ukyou silently nodded her head. Saotome-san handed her a ticket.  
"Arigato," Ukyou mumbled as if she thought she were dreaming. This was not the man she had come to know and loathe over the years.  
"Now if you'll excuse me. I-I must see my son." He slowly turned and walked away like he was bearing the burden of Atlas on his shoulders. Both Ukyou and Akane watched him disappear inside and down the hall to the stairs.   
Slowly the girls turned to face each other. "I never expected that," they both said simultaneously. Retreating into silent meditation, they both turned inward and contemplated the turn of events.   
"Tomorrow," Akane whispered in anticipation, the ticket clutched tightly in her hand.  
  
Saotome Genma made his way slowly up the stairs to the guest room he shared with his son. Walking down the hall he pushed open the door and went to sit next to his son's form. Gently he grasped Ranma's small hand.  
"I'm sorry my son. I've failed you so many times. This time it will be different. I will give you the chance. Just this last time trust me. Trust me like you used to." His voice cracked. His son was the most important thing in the world to him, and what he had done to him was unbearable. Just let this end. Let it end so I can leave. It will be easier for everyone. He was unaware of the tears that streaked his face.   
Genma spent that night by his son's side, watching him, facing all the mistakes in his life for the first time. Eventually he slipped into sleep in the early morning hours, his body and mind exhausted.  
  
Cologne eagerly hopped her way up the mountain path. The trip here had taken less time then she had thought. An hour on the plane and hen a few hours by truck to this small village in northern Okinawa. Finding Ouchi-san had been even easier. The first person she had asked had given her the information, and a most pleasing surprise.  
Now she was making her way to his home, just to check. Just to make sure. The path opened up into a flat meadow that held a small hut in the center. Cologne began to look around.   
An hour later she was heading down the mountain, a pleased smile on her face. "The fools. The complete fools." Now just to make it harder for them to find Ouchi. No need to give them too much of a chance to undo all of her plans.  
In the middle of the night a small troll-like creature might have been seen as a blur moving from shadow to shadow in the small village at the base of Hedo Misaki. But in a village few people stayed up late, and no one saw anything that night. Only a single dog barked as the troll reached the village well and added a little spice to the villagers life. Tomorrow and the next few days would be very interesting for the villagers.   
Cackling evilly the troll bounded from the village in a vaguely southerly path. Not even the dog that had barked at the thing raised its nose. Dogs know when they are in over their head.   
  
Author's Notes  
  
Sheesh you think I could go somewhere in a story, well I did, it just isn't apparent. More than anything I sounds like Im rehashing the first few parts. You know have the characters dealing with their emotions. Hopefully I advanced them some. Well it doesn't really matter. Unlike the other ones this is a rough draft. I'm not perfectly satisfied with it yet, so I will repost it when I post pt 5.  
One thing. Soo-de su means that is so. It is a contraction of the phrase Kore-wa soo-de ari-masu. Soo-de su ka can be used as a question, Is that so? Basically soo-de su is a stronger version of hai.  
Okay on to the next subject. Ch 3 will only have 6 parts. I've already got them planned out. Ch 4 will have three or four parts and chapter 5 will have about five or six, so that puts me somewhere around eighteen posts. Yikes. Well anyway. I will hopefully have that done by the end of March. Really I will because I have most of ch 4 written already and ch 5 is not as complicated as this Ch. That's why its taking me so long. I'm too busy worrying about OOC and if i'm doing it right. There is so little forward action that I've spent a lot of time on the characters, and so i'm never quite sure where it will go.  
Take all of Akane's changes of heart, her blow up at Genma. None of them were in the outline. I threw them in because they made sense at the time.  
Well anyway. The next two episodes will be a little more fast paced. Okay more like the tortoise versus the hare, but your choice which is better.  
Oh well I quess that';s enough of that/ Oh I willbe breaking from this after the fifth cahpter and ging back to work on the Legacy. It wioll be revamped and reposted in March, hopefully ^_^ All ten oriinal chapter, three new chapters anmd a bunch of new stuff, and better writing.  
Look for the occasional other fic from me, I've got a million of them floating in my head.  
  
Ja ne..  
  
Until next time  
Joseph A. Kohle  
  
----*----*----*----*----*----*----*----*----*----  
All rights and priveleges to Ranma Nibunnoichi   
belong to Rumiko Takahashi. The characters of her   
series are used without her permission for the   
purpose of entertainment only. This work of fic-  
tion is not meant for sale or profit.   
  
All original characters are the creation of the  
author. All copyright privileges to these chara-  
cters are reserved for the author.  
  
This story is a product of the author's hard work   
and imagination. Do not modify, add to, or make   
use of any part of this work without the author's   
knowledge and consent. Please feel free to archive   
this work.   
  
Comments and criticism are welcome.   
Written by Joseph A. Kohle, (c) 1997.   
Send all comments to Ashira@worldnet.att.net 


	8. Vol 2 Chap 4

DISCLAIMER: Ranma Nibunnoichi is the property of Takahashi Rumiko, Shogakukan Inc, Shonen Sunday Comics, and Viz Video. It is used without their permission and is not intended for profit but only for the enjoyment of fans of the Ranma series. All characters within this fic that are not the property of the above mentioned are copyrighted to the author, Joseph Kohle, January 1997. This work of fiction is the result of the author's hard work and is for the enjoyment of others. Please do not change, modify, or use any segment of this story without the author's knowing and written consent. Feel free to archive this work.  
  
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Meiyo Ai soshite Nikushimi  
  
A Ranma Nibunnoichi Fanfic  
by Joseph Kohle   
Part II: The Judgement of Boukyaku  
Chapter IV: Where the Path Leads  
  
As the doors swung open at their approach, Akane, Genma, and Ukyou suddenly found themselves drawn into the whirling mass of confusion. Bodies pressed and smashed against them as the thousands of travelers moved in a chaotic dance of modern life. Akane and Ukyou struggled to stay next to Genma who was pushing the wheelchair in which they had placed Ranma.   
Ranma-onna was slumped in the wheelchair, her head leaning forward against her chest, the statue clutched in her lap. Anyone who saw her would consider her to be sleeping peacefully while her father pushed her. Most would not have noticed the worried expressions and nervous agitation of the three surrounding the wheelchair like overpro- tective bodygaurds. The fragile creature in the chair was too much of a distraction.  
Pushing through the milling crowds they reached the ticket counters where they settled in at the end of a long line. The three erstwhile companions stood silently, each lost in their own insecurities. Like robots they moved up in the line, Akane and Ukyou dragging the four bags that they had brought forward with them.  
Twenty minutes later they had made their way to the ticket counter. Genma quickly had their tickets confirmed while Akane checked the bags. Moments later they were moving away from the counter with the flow of the crowd. They made their way through the security points and then to the rail system that connected the different terminals.   
Finding the right tube, they waited patiently for the railcar to arrive. Akane patiently guarded Ranma as they waited. Her hand unconscious- ly caressed Ranma-onna's shoulder, as she watched the waiting crowd. The faces were transient in her mind appearing and then disappearing like a magician's coin as her gaze slid across each one.  
Like a kettle on the fire, she was close to boiling over because of the anticipation, the anxiety. From the house to the airport, they had all remained locked within themselves speaking to none of the others. At first, Akane had been in no mood for talking. Anticipation had repeatedly pulled her from the depths of sleep to leave her laying quietly on her bed, listening to Ukyou's measured breathing on the floor. Those few scant moments of sleep had not been enough, and upon leaving the house, she had been more zombie-like than anything.   
Yet as they drew closer to the airport, she had wanted to speak with someone, just to talk about something, anything, to keep her mind of the bubbling excitement that was building within her. They were actually going to bring Ranma back to them. Ukyou had been lost in her own thoughts, having drawn in on herself since accepting Saotome Genma's extra ticket, and one look at Ranma's father had dissuaded her from even speaking.  
Unconsciously she glanced over at him as they waited. His face was still the same. A hard face set in determination to do what was right, but his eyes, his eyes were burning pools of pain. Akane dropped her gaze and turned back to the crowd.  
They were so close, yet it seemed like they were about to start run- ning in circles. It was not as if it would have been hard for Cologne to find them, watch them, yet nothing had tried to interfere, no strange occurrences to keep them trapped at home like some lab rats doing the bidding of their master. There was just a feeling of something that was out of place. A pessimistic outlook that would not release her.   
Silence and morose attitudes were not an auspicious beginning to a journey. Just let everything turn out fine. Please. If the gods were listening though they remained silent. Sighing she scanned the crowd again hoping to find some sort of distraction. A frail, old matron caught her eye. She was watching Akane as their eyes met and locked. The woman nodded her head and gave a small sympathetic smile as she flicked her eyes toward Ranma-onna's comatose form.   
Akane was about to say something when the car pulled up, the doors opening to let the occupants spill on the other side, before opening to allow access to the new riders. As the crowd pushed into the car, Akane lost track of the old woman and just settled for standing close to Ranma, the bodies of the multitude of travelers pushing them tighter than packed sardines.  
The car accelerated quickly, forcing Akane to lean forward, grip- ping the handrail tightly. Ukyou was not paying as much attention and stumbled backward into Akane as the car began to move. Slightly annoyed, Akane pushed Ukyou off her. Ukyou glanced back and apologized with a embarrassed smile. Akane only nodded her head before returning to her own thoughts.  
The trip was a short few minutes. A young woman's electronic voice chimed over the speaker announcing their terminal. Decelerating quickly, the car came to a halt, the doors opening to disgorge the passengers. The quartet moved away from the car and into the main concourse. They made their way to Gate 16 where they found seats to wait for the flight.  
Saotome-san placed Ranma at the end of a row of seats and then found another seat on the opposite side of the lobby. There he sank down and watched the rain splattering against the windows, his shoulders slumped and tired.  
Ukyou quickly took the seat next to Ranma and idly picked a book from her traveling bag. She opened it and buried her face in the thing, but Akane could tell she was not reading, over the course of ten min- utes she did not turn the page once.  
For her part, Akane sat across from Ranma and Ukyou. Ukyou taking her place next to Ranma was annoying her, but she was not up to a fight, especially in an airport where any number of people could get hurt. They had formed an uneasy truce for the time, so she could not break it, even if the only reason not to was because it would not help Ranma in the least.  
Eventually watching Ukyou and Ranma became depressing. With a last glance at Ranma, she left the lobby and began wandering the con- course, looking for something interesting to distract her. Any number of shops drew her interest. Each she casually walked into and then dismissed after a few moments. None of her normal interest mattered.  
After visiting several establishments, she wandered into a small gift shop. Quickly glancing around she found nothing of interest, but as she turned to leave, a glint of gold caught her eye. A moment later she was back in the store and was walking towards a shelf. On the shelf were the normal cheap crap that was sold to tourists. Small dolls with kimonos, chopsticks with Tokyo engraved on them, and the assorted other gimmicks pawned off on the gullible.  
One of these trinkets caught her eye. A gold picture frame holding the snapshot of the sun rising over Tokyo Harbor. The picture was unimportant, it was the frame. It was the same one Ranma had given to her at Christmas over a year ago.   
He was so nice sometimes. He even still has that scarf I knitted him. She giggled slightly as she thought of that gift. The only reason she was not ashamed of it was because Ranma liked it. She knew it was a horrid piece of work. Like cooking, she was absolutely horrid at sewing and embroidery but tried as hard as she could only to fail; however, despite that, he still kept it, like he always at least tried her culinary concoctions.  
"Things aren't as bad as you think they are," a voice said from behind her. Akane turned around to see the old woman from the rail stop. "There is always hope. As my mother always said, when things are their darkest, faith is the brightest light. Don't worry dear, I'm sure your friend will be fine." Smiling the old woman gently patted Akane's cheek and then turned and started walking away. "I'm sorry I can't talk longer. I have a flight I must catch."  
Confused Akane watched the strange, old matron walk away. For some reason she felt a little better. The woman was right. What good was it going to do worrying about things she had no control over. Akane left the shop with a lighter step, eagerly anticipating the up- coming flight and the inevitable conclusion to this hellish week.  
  
Genma placed his son in the seat next to the window before taking the aisle seat as his own. Across from him Akane and Ukyou took their seats, Akane on the aisle, Ukyou still uncomfortable with being near Ranma's father by the window.  
Akane settled down quickly and yawned her body rebelling against her lack of sleep the previous night. She managed to stay awake long enough for the plane to taxi and take off, but once they were in the air, she slipped into sleep. Even the curiosity of her first trip by plane was unable to keep her awake.  
For once in his life, despite the lack of sleep and his desire to escape from his worries, Genma was unable to find refuge in sleep. Every time he closed his eyes, they were snapped open by another image of his failures. A times the frowning face of his wife would stare back at him, her katana flashing brightly as it descended towards him. Mostly though it was the glint in Ukyou's eyes.  
Every time he glanced in her direction, he was greeted with a hard gaze colder than a screeching, arctic wind. Against his will he found his head turning to watch her once more only to snap back to the lowered, tray table in front of him. He shivered at the loathing in the young woman's eyes.   
The entire situation was only exacerbated by his own guilt. He knew his larcenous nature had destroyed the child Ukyou and corrupted the young woman he now had to face. The knowledge was a burning hook twisting in his gut, casting him deeper into his pit of depression and self-hatred. Only his duty to Ranma kept him in place, kept him on the plane, kept him human.  
Ukyou turned to the window and watched the pristine expanse of white clouds pass beneath them, the shadow of the plane skimming across the scene. The old man's suffering was apparent to her and she was enjoying every second of it. He deserved no less and much more in her opinion. What he had done to her was unforgivable. Maybe she had forgiven the ignorance of Ranma, but not his father. There would come a time when she would force him to pay, especially if she lost her Ranchan.  
She was not blind like Kunou, nor was she impatient like that slut Shampoo. Patience was a virtue she had plenty of, and she had waited patiently, dropping small hints to Ranma, becoming his friend again, trying to pull him back to her. Sometimes she tried a few plans, hoping to win him,, but she also realized that Ranchan would not be forced. So she gave him understanding and someone to talk to in his times of trouble.  
Yet after all of her work, she was at least beginning to see the truth. There had been many times when she had thought Akane cared for Ranma, even loved him, but at the same time their constant fights and bickering, declarations of hatred satisfied her that the feeling, if mutual, at least was not very powerful.   
Watching Akane this morning though had changed many of her views. On the way to the airport she had watched the way Akane had brushed against Ranma, constantly touching him, as if she were reassuring herself. What made it worse was the fact that she seemed to do it unconsciously and to Ranma's cursed form, with which Ukyou knew Akane was uncomfortable. It reminded Ukyou of older married couples, so comfortable with each other that physical contact was almost necessary.  
It was obvious that Akane loved Ranma, although she was refrain- ing from telling Ukyou. Whether from pity or just her own uncertainty, Ukyou did not know, but it hurt all the same. If Akane cared that much, did Ranma. Why had he broken off the engagements, why wasn't Akane furious at him for doing such a thing. Ukyou knew she was, even if he had reassured her, made it easier...  
She shook her head as the tears came. No! he did not do that. He did not break up with everyone so he could have Akane. He hates her, he loves me. Ranchan is mine.  
Glancing at the sleeping Akane, murder flashed in Ukyou's eyes. She realized it was jeaolously and desperation speaking, but she needed Ranma by her side. If it was within her power, she would not allow anyone to take Ranchan from her. He was all she had, all she could ever had. Everything, everything had been done for him. She turned from Akane and faced the empty sky, it suited her mood. "I'll not let you go Ranchan," Ukyou promised herself, wiping the tears from her face. "I'll find your cure and you'll be mine. Akane was going to give you up. I won't."  
Sinking back into her seat, Ukyou closed her eyes and tried to sleep, but like Genma, she was unable to find peace. Instead she quietly endured the flight, planning what she would do once there, fantasizing about her and Ranchan together, forever.  
They were three people thrown together by a young man. Each were bound to this young man by honor and love. Each was uncomfor-table with the others. Hatred of the other, rivalry, and shame and disgust were endured as they traveled, brought together by a common enemy and purpose. Sometimes fate is cruel.  
  
Ranma dodged her striking fist and then jumped upwards to avoid her kick. Using her still extended arm, he vaulted himself over head and behind her. Before he could tap her though, she was spinning and striking out at him. Pleased with her reaction, Ranma leaned back. Xian Lin's foot swept in front of his face, leaving a rush of air to follow its passage.  
Refusing to regain his original position, Ranma continued to lean farther back, expecting the next attack. He was not disappointed as Xian Lin automatically struck with her fist. His lean turned into a back flip, his legs scissoring her arm and flipping her above him, sending her flying towards the ground.  
At the last moment she twisted to land on her feet, only to be con- fronted with Ranma's lightning fast attacks. Having spent a year and a half inside him, watching his abilities, Xian Lin was not as surprised as most opponents were when faced with Ranma's expertise and blinding fast reflexes.  
She lashed out, trying to attack in order to slow him down, but was soon forced to step backwards, defending his blows as they became faster and much more numerous. Finally her defenses broke. His fist rushed toward her and then she was lightly tapped four times, his personal signal of victory. Grimmacing in disgust at herself, Xian Lin lowered her defenses. She had yet to touch Ranma in normal combat, and now the extensive training were taking its toll.  
Physical exhaustion was not a problem within their prison, but the concentration and discipline required of fighting did take its toll even- tually. This was their fourth match in a row, and she needed a rest. Looking at Ranma she decided he needed one as well. "Let's rest for a bit," she suggested. Not waiting for an answer she sat on the ground and cleared her mind.  
Nodding Ranma sat down in front of her and also began the exercise she had showed him. It was exhilarating being able to fight without worrying about physical exhaustion, but he had discovered the mental strain was more than he was used to, and he actually tired faster because of that.  
After their first few practice sessions, he had nearly collapsed from the mental exhaustion of forcing away the entrapment of the world, and his own concentration on training. Realizing what was wrong, Xian Lin had showed him how to regain his center and remove the strain from his mind.  
Closing his eyes, he followed the instructions she had given him. It was almost like meditation, except that he did not surrender himself to his surroundings, instead he actively sought his center. Once there, he surrendered to that, allowing it to carry him away from the prison into his own inner being. Here he was protected and nourished by his own energy.   
He did not stay long. To stay too long was to become lost within himself, and since the body had no protection against itself, he would be trapped forever. As soon as he felt his balance reassert itself, he pushed away, scrambling upward, forming the picture of Xian Lin kneeling in front of him, the barren broken world around him. He imagined his muscles, tensing and relaxing, his heart beating, the air being drawn through his nose to fill his lungs. Suddenly it was real and he was back in the prison.  
"You're getting better at that," Xian Lin complimented him, "Your control is much more precise, more confident, I could feel it. You have a lot of potential Ranma."  
"I've gotta good sensei," Ranma said modestly, "Besides you're improving just as much. For an Amazon your skills were pretty bad, but now, I would say you are better than most fighters I know."  
"Pretty bad, huh?" Xian Lin said dangerously, "Just because I am not as physical as you, doesn't mean I'm weak." Ranma had no warning as a small projectile of ki shot from her hands. Slamming into his shoulder, he was sent spinning by the blast.  
Grumbling he climbed to his feet. He was still confused by how she used a ki attack without words to focus the energy, or at least gestures. If he could learn that, he knew he would be unbeatable. Plopping down in front of her, he glared at her for a second as he spoke, "I didn't mean weak, I meant you were weak in your physical fighting skills. That's dangerous, no matter how good your ki is. Ki attacks drain you faster than punches and kicks. Besides what if someone nullifies your ki, or drugs you so you can't concentrate. It's stupid to rely on one thing over another."  
"But you exclusively concentrate on your physical skills, doesn't that make you weak also?" Xian Lin asked. This was normal for them. Over the time they had been together, they had discussed martial arts in most cases. In these conversations they both learned from the other, and improved themselves.  
"Once the body is mastered, the world around you can be mastered. Once body and world are one, the spirit can be unlocked. Spirit, body and world join to start your understanding of life, by understanding life you become whole and complete. The warrior who can do this is truly great," Ranma recited.  
"Where have I heard that?" Xian Lin asked.  
"Probably in many places," Ranma explained, "Many warrior societies have a similar saying. Some add additional steps, some make it more mystical, some turn it into an initiation and training process. Boil it down though and it all means what I just said."  
"Where are you?" Xian Lin asked curiously. She had an idea, but wanted to see if Ranma was able to be truthful to himself, assess his own strengths and weaknesses  
Ranma was quiet for a moment as he contemplated the question and his own self. "I'm not sure exactly. I think I've mastered my body. It does what I want without having me to force it to. Most things become instinct for me, also I think I've almost mastered the world. I am able to sense things around me, threats against me, danger to friends. It is like a sixth sense that is just there. I've only had it for a while, not much more than a few years. I remember Pop being able to sneak up on me when I was thirteen of fourteen, but by fifteen he never was able to do that."  
"I don't think I've even stepped into mastering my spirit. I know I can throw ki attacks, meditate and heal quickly, but those are still part of the body, besides I don't have nearly your control over my inner force."  
Xian Lin nodded, "And me?"  
"You're confusing," Ranma admitted, "You can control your spirit and the unseen world. You fight me off, while trapped in my soul, so I think you've mastered the spirit. I think that is because of your death though. You never mastered the body, or maybe you mastered your body, you have good instincts and fighting skills, but I would say the world around you is beyond your abilities."  
"That is why I said your fighting skill were pretty bad for an Amazon. You basically skipped two levels because of your death, um..maybe not skipped, how about transcended them. In your position you don't need them, but without them, you'll never master life." Ran- ma stopped and looked at her for a moment. A thought had just sprung into his mind. Was it possible that only when life was mastered that the soul could move on?  
He knew that was similar to Buddhist teachings, but he had never thought about it in relation to his own skills. Was that why he was so good, so young? Was he working off of some previous life's or lives' experiences. It made one wonder. How long does it take to master body, environment, and spirit? How many lifetimes? How much longer did he have on this world? And if he lost to Boukyaku, would his journey be in vain? Suddenly losing took on a new meaning to him.  
Xian Lin caught a tiny amount of Ranma's thoughts, and the possibi- lities frightened her. Was she doomed to be trapped in that pool until she mastered life? She fervently hoped that it was a fallacy. To be stuck in the spring for all eternity, to be trapped in other's bodies, to be constantly fighting oblivion. What she had done was not deserving of such a harsh punishment.   
She could not stop the tears as they came, spilling down her cheeks to be caught in her dark Chinese pants. Even her clothing was a reflec- tion of Ranma. He was that strong, and there was nothing she was able to do about it.  
It was a surprise when she felt Ranma's arms encircling her, drawing her into his embrace. "Shh, don't cry. I'm not going to lose. I'll never lose. Don't worry, I promised to help you and I will. I promise on my honor." Xian Lin clutched him tighter, crying in desolation. She wanted to believe him. She wanted to, but the doubt, the punishment for her crimes refused her that solace. Was it even possible to be free?  
  
Akane was jolted from her sleep as the plane touched down on the runway at the Naha International Airport. Reluctantly she opened her eyes to the real world. She had been having such a pleasant dream. She had been with Ranma, his arms encircling her as they lay side by side in the grove of over three weeks ago.  
Rocking her gently, he had whispered his love for her as he brushed a kiss against her cheek. Melting into his arms, she had returned the sentiment, declaring her love, and turning to face him. His eyes had been so brilliant, the grey-blue depths mesmerizing her.  
Drawn to him, she had leaned in closer, their lips touching, and then they were kissing. His body pressing tightly against hers, his hands flowing over her. It had been so wonderful, but then she had pulled away, as Shampoo and Ukyou walked up to them, hurt expressions on their faces.  
Ranma had complained about her actions for a second before real- izing that they were not alone. When he had noticed who was there, an annoyed expression had crossed his face. "What do you want?" he asked angrily.  
"We want you, Ranchan," Ukyou responded.  
"Shampoo come to take husband from violent, ugly girl," Shampoo declared.  
"Go away," Ranma said, "I love Akane." At those words, the other fiancees had vanished, leaving them alone once more. Ranma had turned to her and apologized before kissing her again, pulling her back down to the soft moss covered ground. Then...  
Akane blushed slightly as she remembered the rest of the dream. It had been so nice. Ranma had been so nice. If he was only like that in real life...maybe in a way he was. She glanced over at Ranma, watching Saotome-san lifting her body from her seat, before putting her into the wheelchair the stewardess brought to them.  
Ukyou nudged her, and Akane remembered to get her bag. With a slightly embarrassed smile, she followed Genma and Ranma out of the airplane and into the boarding canopy.   
They quickly moved from the concourse to the baggage claim. It was about a twenty minute wait before their bags began to appear on the belt. It was another ten before they had all four and were headed to the front of the airport and the car rental desk.   
A long line was waiting in front of the car rental desk. They waited patiently in line and soon found themselves talking with a young woman. She asked them a few quick questions about where they were going, how long they would need the car, and then asked to see a driver's license. Surprisingly, Genma pulled out a license and showed it to the young woman.  
After checking it, the woman turned to the computer and gave them a car number and the keys to the car. After Genma payed the cover and insurance charge on the car, she directed them to the lot in which it was parked.   
It was noon by the time they found the car. Ukyou opened the door, and they placed Ranma in the back seat of the small automobile. Col- lapsing the wheelchair, Akane put it in the trunk with their luggage. Genma slipped into the front seat and turned on the car. Akane and Ukyou slid in the back seat, on either side of Ranma-onna. Genma did not seem to even notice as he shifted into gear and backed out of the parking space.  
Thirty minutes later they were all on the highway, heading north toward Nago and eventually Hedo Misaki. Akane watched the city spread out around them as they drove through the thick traffic on the highway. It was only about one hundred and forty kilometers to Nago, but at this rate, it was going to take them nearly two hours to make the hour trip. Well it was not as bad as area surrounding Tokyo, but it was still not a good day to be driving.  
As they took a slow turn, she felt Ranma lean against her, her head resting on Akane's shoulder. Absently, Akane draped her arm across Ranma-onna's shoulder and settled against her. Leaning slightly against the door, Akane slipped once more into sleep, a small smile on her face. She missed the envious look cast her way by Ukyou.   
Ukyou was burning with jealously, as she watched Akane pull Ranma closer to her body, turning slightly to find a more comfortable position for Ranma-onna. They looked so perfect together, like two pieces of a puzzle. It was not fair. Before her very eyes, she saw Ranma slipping away from her. What did it matter if he was unconscious? Akane was doing everything she could to keep him by her side.   
Sullenly, Ukyou turned away, grief and suppressed anger glimmering beneath the surface of her eyes. She was effectively tied down because Ranma needed her. If she started attacking Akane, the old man would step in to protect the girl. Besides, did she even have a right to attack Akane. She had been nice to her and did not begrudge her being with Ranma. She couldn't just explode at her. But it hurt so much to see Akane with Ranma.  
What would Ranma think if you attacked Akane? Ranma would look at her with that sad expression in his eyes. It was an easy answer. She hated that look. It meant he disapproved, and his approval was everything to her. When he complimented her cooking, when he called her cute, when he confided in her, that was what made all the waiting worth it.   
She would not incur his disapproval and possible wrath by attacking Akane. Once he was back to normal, Akane and him would start fighting again, become rivals. It was as inevitable as death. Help each other when the other was in trouble, become close, and then drive a wedge between themselves after it all was over and done, it was a simple pattern. No need to worry, no need. In a better mood, Ukyou shifted so her head was on Ranma's shoulder. Soon she fell asleep with Akane.  
  
They were awaken by Genma slamming the car door. Groggily, Akane and Ukyou glanced out the car windows, examining the place with bleary eyes. They were in the parking lot of a small and most likely cheap lodging. Saotome Genma was disappearing into the office, to arrange their stay.  
Akane pushed Ranma back into a sitting position, before opening the door and stepping out. She stretched her legs quickly and waited patiently by the car, her eyes traveling over the surrounding area. It was not to different from Nerima accept the greater abundance of signs in English.   
For a moment she was confused by this, until she saw group of men walking down the other side of the street, talking loudly and laughing boisterously at the other's jokes. They were speaking in English and they carried themselves differently from the rest of the people on the street. There was an arrogant haughtiness about them. They were obviously Americans, and most likely members of the military.   
One of the men noticed her and waved. She nodded her head in answer, not wanting to attract their attention. The man only shrugged and turned to his friends and made a comment pointing over his shoulder. The other men burst out laughing.  
Red heat filled her face. They were making fun of her, and it was probably nothing nice. She was about to stalk across the street and give them a taste of her anger when Ukyou touched her shoulder.   
"What?" Akane demanded, turning to face Ukyou.  
Ukyou was startled by the outburst, but then she had not noticed the soldiers. "If you don't want to go to the room, that's fine with me," Ukyou snapped, "But Saotome-san is motioning for us." She indicated Genma who was waiting for them by two open doors. Why does Akane make it so difficult? I'm trying to be nice.  
"Gomen," Akane apologized, "I was just mad about something."  
"What was it?" Ukyou asked curiously, her anger soothed by the apology. She reminded herslf tht Akane was under as much stress as she was herself, if not more.  
"Nothing important," Akane said, noticing the men had turned down a side street. She grabbed two bags and began pushing Ranma's wheelchair. Ukyou had obviously prepared things while she was occupied.  
Genma took Ranma from Akane at the door, wheeling her into his room. Akane only shrugged and walked into the other room. Throwing her bag in the corner, she collapsed backwards onto the bed sighing in relief. One more stop and they would be there. Hedo Misaki was only fifty kilometers from them. Maybe an hour drive because of the mountain on the northern tip of Okinawa, but there were villages around there, and they would be able to track the man down.   
Six days would be plenty of time to find a well known doctor and get back to Nerima. Heck they didn't even need to get back to Nerima. If this worked, Ranma would be cured. There was no hurry to go anywhere after that. Akane smiled.  
"What are you smiling about?" Ukyou asked. The memory of Akane holding Ranma in the car still burned in her mind, and she did not see anything else enjoyable about this place.  
"We're so close. Just a few more days." Her voice was soft, her tone wistful. "All of this will be over. We can go back to normal again." She giggled. "Well at least as normal as things get around Ranma."  
Smiling a little at the joke, Ukyou sank down in the chair, not really wanting to share the only bed with Akane. She was jumping at shadows, that was all."You've gone through a lot because of this, haven't you?"  
"Soo-de su, I just hope it all ends soon. I just don't have the stamina to continue. Do you know how much sleep I've gotten in the past week?" Akane asked, focusing her eyes on her roommate Ukyou shook her head, "Not counting today, less than four hours a day. It's hard to sleep when you know someone you know is right down the hall dying and there is nothing you can do about it."  
"Well we're doing something now," Ukyou offered cheerfully  
"Ahhh-hhuuhh," Akane yawned, rubbing her eyes, "For some reason I'm beat. If you don't mind, I'm going to get some more sleep."   
Ukyou grunted noncommittally as Akane curled up on the bed. Standing up, Ukyou walked to the rear of the room and opened the sliding door and stepped out into a narrow courtyard. It was not large, but it was big enough to practice. Smiling she began to stretch in preparation for her katas, anticipating the release.  
  
Genma knocked on their door later in the evening. He was greeted by a well-rested and smiling Akane. "Konban-wa," she said, "Come on in." She motioned for him to sit as she headed towards the bathroom. "Ukyou!" she called, "Ranma's father is here."   
Akane disappeared into the bathroom, as the outside screen door slid open and Ukyou walked into the room. She didn't say anything to Genma, but sat down on the bed and waited silently for Akane. Genma fidgeted on his feet, wishing Akane would hurry up. As far as he was concerned, Akane was neutral territory. As long as she was around things would not go to far.  
"Where's Ranma?" Ukyou asked flatly. Her unexpected question startled Genma who looked away from the girl.   
"He's back in our room," Genma answered, "I didn't think we need- ed him here to decide what to do." Ukyou ignored the response and instead watched her reflection in the mirror next to the television.  
The bathroom door opened and Akane stepped out in a white blouse and yellow skirt with a small, black pig embroidered on the hem. She was still smiling, but as soon as she felt the tension in the room, her good mood vanished with the smile on her face.   
She looked back and forth between Ukyou and Genma. It was obvious the former disliked the latter, and the latter was no more inclined to the former. Sighing Akane fell into a chair. "So what are we going to do?" Akane asked simply, deciding that bluntness was far better than diplomacy. Besides she had a lot of practice being blunt. It was an offshoot of her violent nature.  
Genma recovered first and coughed to clear his throat. "I was going to go ask a few people around the city if they know an Ouchi-sensei. Maybe they can narrow down our search. Other than that. I was going to head for Hedo Misaki tomorrow morning. I wanna finish this as soon as possible."  
Genma turned to leave. "Do you need us to do anything?" Akane asked, hopefully. Staying in the room doing nothing helpful was the last hing she wanted to be doing.  
"No, this is my duty. Ranma's my son." He started to walk out of the room before he turned back. "There is some food in my room. I already fed Ranma. Other than that the night's yours." He walked outside and closed the door. They heard a car engine start and then the sound faded away as it joined the flow of traffic.  
Akane watched the closed door for a moment before standing and walking out of the room. She had never really liked Ranma's father, but it was hard not to feel pity for the man. He was putting himself through Hell because of this situation.   
Opening the door to Genma's room, she walked in and closed it behind her. Ranma was tucked into the bed, the sheets covering her body. On the table she saw some containers of food. Surprisingly none of them had been touched. Another wave of pity washed over her. It was obvious that Saotome Genma was not himself at the moment.  
The door opened behind her and Ukyou walked in. Akane glanced at her long enough to see the smug expression on her face. She was obviously enjoying the suffering of Ranma's father. She had a right to. That man ruined her life. If anyone has any right to hate Ranma's father it was Ranma and Ukyou.  
Akane pushed the thoughts from her head. As far as she was con- cerned only Ranma mattered, not Genma, not Ukyou, not any of their other problems. Ranma was in trouble and that took priority.  
Ignoring Ukyou, she sat down and grabbed some food and a pair of chopsticks. It was takeout from some place that obviously did not care what the food tasted like. The rice was lumpy, the meat overcooked, and the vegetables were soggy, but she ate it without a complaint. After finally waking up she was feeling a hundred times better and was ravenous.  
She finished quickly and walked over to check on Ranma. She was laying quietly on the bed, no surprise there. A container of soup caught her eye. Akane picked it up and found it half-full. Obviously, Genma had not fed Ranma a lot, leaving her the job. Akane muttered a few choice words under her breath, but Ranma did need to be fed.  
Sighing, she found a spoon and placed it next to the soup container while she propped Ranma up into a sitting position. Sitting next to her, she took a spoonful of broth and gently pushed it past Ranma's lips. Ranma swallowed reflexively, as Akane removed the spoon and dipped it in the container to get more broth.   
She returned the spoon to Ranma's mouth, but as she was feeding her, she accidentally hit a tooth, spilling the broth across Ranma's chin.  
"You klutz, whatdyadothatfor?" For a moment Akane thought Ranma had woken it up. It was exactly like something he would have said, but then she realized it was coming from behind her.  
Glancing over her shoulder, she saw Ukyou standing at the table, glaring at her. "I'm feeding Ranma!" Akane snapped, "Obviously no one else is going to."  
"Well then why don' t you get some of the food in his mouth?" Ukyou shot back enjoying the taunting. Seeing Akane helping Ranma, being close to him had snapped something in her mind. "At least I can do something simple like that right! No wonder you can't cook right if you can't even put a spoon in someone's mouth."  
"Shut up!" Akane screamed, "If you're so much better why don't you do it. Just excuse me for trying to be nice!" She set the soup down and threw the spoon at Ukyou. Ukyou dodged the flying utensil. It whizzed past her head to smash into the door, bending under the force of Akane's throw.  
"Fine, I will," Ukyou gloated.  
Akane just shook her head and stalked out of the room. It wasn't worth it. It just wasn't worth. She glanced back once to see Ukyou sitting down next to Ranma, talking to her lovingly. Slamming the door she walked back to her room and grabbed a light jacket and her purse before heading out into the night.  
Head down, Akane walked the streets, her feet taking her along without thought to where she was going. She was soon off the over crowded main streets and walking the sparsely crowded back streets. Unaware of her surroundings, Akane muttered angrily to herself. Her temper as usual had gained control of her. She was furious at Ukyou. The gall of the girl, telling her she could not feed Ranma, that she was a klutz. It had been an accident, an honest mistake. "If I get my hands on her.. I'm..I'm gonna wring her bloody neck," Akane growled. It wasn't exactly what she wanted to do, but for now it would suffice.  
Caught up in her own emotions, Akane did not see the group of men in front of her. They were walking erratically up the street, unsteady on their feet. Heedless of where they were going, they did not notice the girl walking toward them, her head down. Akane crashed against one of them, falling backwards onto her rear with an audible grunt. The men burst out in drunken laughter as they noticed the girl on the ground.  
Her pride was smarting as much as her rear. "Baka! Watch where you are going." Blushing a little she glanced up to see who the men were. It was a group of caucasian men and a few Japanese. They were all fairly drunk, actually calling them fairly drunk was like calling the sun a nice, little light. Making things even worse they were still laughing at her expense. The whole situation was embarrasing enough, and now they were laughing at her. Simmering in anger, she shot them a dirty look of disgust.   
Grumbling under her breath, Akane started picking herself up, obviously the men were not going to help. She heard them say something. It was hard to understand because of their slurred speech and the fact that it was in English, but she thought it was something about helping the pretty lady.  
A pair of rough hands grabbed her arm and pulled her to her feet. Startled Akane found herself stumbling forward into her helper. The strong stench of alcohol assaulted her as she felt her body press against the rough fabric and muscular chest of one of the men.  
She heard a few catcalls from the other soldiers, which made her blush. Then the unthinkable happened. She felt his hand sliding over her hip. Her anger surged forward. "Hentai!" she screamed. Roughly pushing him away, she smashed her fist in the taller man's face. He stumbled with a surprised grunt, his hand clutching his injured nose, crimson leaking through his fingers.  
Stunned he looked at the blood on his hands. Rage suddenly burned in his eyes. "Bitch!" he shouted as his hand came around to strike Akane's face. The blow was strong, snapping her head to the side. There was a ringing in her ears and everything became blurry for a second, but it quickly wore off as anger found it's accustomed place in Akane's psyche.  
She stepped forward about to crush the bastard when she noticed the rest of the men, grumbling angrily, were starting to circle around her. The four Japanese men stepped back not wishing to get involved. They were only drinking companions, not comrades. Nothing compelled them to help the men or the girl, and the girl had run into them and hit one of the men.   
Fear crept into Akane's heart as she saw this. Realizing she was in more trouble than usual, she started looking for a way out. She hated to run, but these men were drunk and mad. That was a bad combination. These were not the boys from school, nor were they any of the martial artists she was used to facing. Something told her they were deadlier. She suddenly wanted Ranma here, but such thoughts were futile, wishful thinking. She was on her own.  
"Wanna play rough," one of the men growled in broken Japanese. A hand grabbed for her, she sidestepped it. The movement was clumsy, but she saw the power behind it, the deadliness of the strike. It was obvious that she was in over head. To stay and fight would probably mean a fate worse than death. Shuddering, she decided to get the hell out of Dodge.  
Spinning, she made a dash between two of the men, who had gotten slightly behind her. They started in surprise as she launched herself at them. This did not last long though. They moved to block her reflexively. Akane reacted the only way she knew how. Her fist struck one in the stomach as her foot connected with the other one's groin. Both slumped to the ground, as Akane leaped past them.  
As she moved away, a hand lashed out catching her on the arm. Pain flared in her shoulder, but she ignored it and sped down the street, leaving the enraged soldiers behind. Taking several side streets, Akane finally collapsed against a wooden door, tears spilling down her cheeks.  
"This is all Ukyou's fault. If she hadn't been so insensitive..those men.. Damn gaijin, damn them.." Her voice broke as she sobbed in relief. At least it was over, and she only had a few bruises. It could have been worse, much worse.  
The door she was leaning against started to move inward. In an instant Akane was on her feet, adrenaline rushing through her body. Backing away from the door, she assumed a fighting stance, warily watching the door.  
To her relief an older man stepped out, a robe wrapped around his body. He looked at her in surprise. "I didn't mean to startle you, but I heard you crying, are you okay?" the man asked in a kindly voice. Akane relaxed, lowering herself to the ground in relief. Her legs decided that they were tired of working and quit on her, causing her to fall forward.   
She felt the man grab her arm and support her, saving her from hit- ting to the ground. The contact with her arm though caused her to hiss as pain flared from her shoulder. "You're hurt," he exclaimed as he led her toward his door, "Why don't you let me help you? Just come into my clinic young miss."  
Akane only nodded as he led her inside. The room was a small kitchen. He gently guided her through the kitchen and into another room that looked a lot like Toufu-sensei's waiting room. From here he directed her into an examination room and sat her down on a table while he searched the room for a few things.  
"What happened to you?" he asked as he gently prodded her shoulder. Akane clenched her teeth as his fingers probed the muscle and bone. The pain was intense causing a small whimper to leave her throat despite her stoutest efforts to contain it.   
"I was attacked by a bunch of men. It wasn't my fault," Akane said hotly, concentrating on her anger to ignore the pain, "I accidentally ran into them, and the one who helped me up tried to feel me up, and I hit him. Than the others got mad...they were going to really hurt me. I could tell." She shuddered and fell silent. She was just beginning to realize how much trouble she had been in, how stupid it was for her to walk off alone. Unlike Nerima, this wasn't exactly a safe place.  
"You've gotta be careful walking outside after dark. Not everyone is very friendly these days," the doctor said, "Could you remove your blouse? I want to put an ointment on your shoulder."  
Akane nodded and unbuttoned the top of her blouse, letting the material fall from her shoulder. "I wasn't thinking. I was mad at someone" she said in a small, shame-filled voice, "I've always been able to protect myself, and Nerima isn't like this at all. It is much more relaxed."  
"It's not that bad here, drunk men anywhere can be a problem. Just be lucky you didn't meet up with more than you could handle. And running away was probably the smartest thing to do," the doctor explained as he rubbed a soothing ointment into Akane's throbbing shoulder. The pain slowly lessened and then disappeared.  
"I promise to be a litle more careful while I'm here," Akane promised  
"You say you're from Nerima? That's in Tokyo, right?" Akane nod- ded in response. "What are you doing down in Okinawa, on vacation?" the doctor asked curiously.  
"Uh actually we're looking for someone," Akane answered, "My fiancee is dying and someone said an Ouchi-sensei who lives on Hedo Misaki could help us. We're trying to find him."  
"Ouchi Yoshitoki?" the doctor asked.  
"I don't know his first name," Akane admitted.  
"Well it is probably Ouchi Yoshitoki. Ouchi is not an Okinawan name, although the man has lived here for more than half a century. He is a strange old man who lives in the forested foothills around Hedo Misaki. I don't know where exactly. He used to stop by and see me every so often. I've not seen him in a year, but then sometimes he stays away for two or three years at a time. Well, if you are looking for him, just ask in the villages around Hedo Misaki. They will point the way to him."  
Impulsively Akane hugged the old doctor. "Arigato, arigato. You don't know how much this means to me." The doctor disentangled himself from Akane and muttered something about the young under his breath.   
Akane was too excited to care. She buttoned her blouse and hopped from the table. "Arigato for everything, uhm, I'm sorry I didn't even give you my name. I am Tendou Akane." She bowed respectfully to the doctor.  
The doctor gave a small bow in return. "I am Miyanou Bunbei. It has been a pleasure to meet you Tendou Akane. May you have luck with Ouchi-san."  
"Arigato," Akane said smiling as she left. Even with Ukyou and those drunk bastards, tonight was turning out to be rather pleasant. Suddenly she turned around, realizing she had no idea where she was. "Uh, Miyanou-sensei? Could you tell me how to get back to my lodging? I don't know where I am." Miyanou laughed and asked her where she was staying and then gave her directions upon hearing her answer.  
Akane moved along the streets at a quick pace, her eyes watching the partially deserted side streets. She had learned her lesson the hard way and was not about to forget it. Moving on to a more crowded main street, Akane relaxed a little and joined the flowing mass of pedestrians.  
It was late when she arrived back at the lodging. Walking through the parking area, she noticed that Ranma's father was still gone. The lights were out in both of the rooms. Shrugging she walked into her room. Ukyou was sleeping on the bed, her body sprawled across it taking up the entire width.  
Akane scowled and considered pushing the girl out of bed. It was that bitch's fault that she had been attacked. If it wasn't for her, she would never have gotten hurt. The fact that the whole episode led her to finding Miyanou-sensei was unimportant, that was her own doing. At the last moment she decided against the idea. Sore and tired, she was in no mood for a fight, and in all actuality she did not relish the idea of spending the night in the same bed as Ukyou, even the same room was too close for her.  
Instead she backed out of the room and closed the door. Without a pause she went to Ranma's room and slipped inside. Ranma was in the same position on her bed, the covers pulled tightly around her. Akane approached the bed and watched Ranma-onna for a moment. Every thing seemed to be fine. For a second she considered just slipping into the bed next to Ranma-onna, but the thought of his father finding them banished the idea in an instant.   
Instead, she pilfered one of the pillows from the bed and pulled off the heavy comforter. Placing the blanket on the ground, she folded it in half and slipped into it. Fluffing the pillow she fell asleep, smiling to herself. They were one step closer to a cure.  
  
Closing his eyes, Ranma concentrated on the image Xian Lin had demonstrated. The image that kept forming was a sword that cleaved through the attacking energy, splitting it to either side, forcing the attack away from him, every time he tried it though, he ended up with a short-lived, flaming katana in his hands.  
He knew it was in his thinking. There was something wrong with the image he was constructing. There was a fatal flaw in it that gave him a physical object instead of an actual cutting edge. Clearing his mind he tried it again, only this time a scythe took the place of the sword. Instinctively he realized he had hit upon the wrong idea.   
"This is so frustrating!" he shouted, slamming his fist into his palm, "I can't get it right. I don't see a way to put what you did into words, or even pictures that will work. Everytime I get a katana in my hands, and that won't work. It requires too much concentration and energy to keep it formed."  
"What am I doing wrong?" He turned to Xian Lin who was kneeling on the ground next to him. "Help me."  
"One more time, Ranma," Xian Lin said as she stood, "Watch me carefully. Open your mind, relax, just try and follow my thoughts."  
Nodding Ranma closed his eyes. He was surprised at how easily he connected with Xian Lin. Her emotions and thoughts suddenly sur- rounded him, filled him. It was disorienting at first, but it only took him a few minutes to filter most of it out and find what he wanted.  
He felt her gather her ki, bringing it to a single point and holding it there, then she began to form an image. The image formed quickly in her mind, the whole process taking no more than a second, yet the image was an indistinct haze to him. She seemed to realize this and extend it, allowing him to see it more clearly. The opponent's ki attack rushing at her, her ki striking out and hitting it. But hit it with what? It started to become distinct, it was a...  
Blackness filled his mind throwing him backward onto the ground. Instinctively, he found his center and pushed outward, forcing the blackness from his mind. Finally it cleared, leaving him gasping for breath on his back.  
"So you're the one who thinks he can defeat Boukyaku. Foolish mortal. You're mine. None can defeat Boukyaku. I am all powerful. I will devour you." The voice was a threatening rumble vibrating around Ranma. Shaking his head, he tried to answer, but before he could, the ground beneath him began to crack open.   
Shouting in surprise, Ranma tried to leap away, but his body and mind were still recovering. He felt himself slidding downward, hard, sharp objects stabbing into his flesh. Panic erupted in him, causing him to scramble upwartds, grasping at the air. Then he was lifted out of the hole, as Xian Lin grabbed him and carried him to safety.  
Boukyaku chuckled evilly. "So you're the foolish soul that interferes this time. It does not matter. You were once given to me, and now I will complete what I could not."  
"I won't be so easy this time," Xian Lin stated. Ranma glanced at her curiously and then back to where he had been sitting. A fanged mouth was pushing out from the ground, trying to reach them. A chill spread up his spine as he saw the glistening black depths behind the gleaming fangs. It was one more he owed Xian Lin.   
"Actually going to fight, Coward?" Ranma's attention was drawn back to Xian Lin. She was glowing a brilliant white, a colour Ranma had never seen on anyone's aura. To touch a white aura was to die.  
"I did what I had to, and I will do what I have to. Ranma is not for you. I will not allow you into the world!"  
"See if you can stop me, Coward. I will be waiting. You don't have much time left." A gloating, hungry laugh filled the air, and then it dwindled to nothingness.  
Unsteadily, Ranma climbed to his feet. He was terrified and very confused. The speed and power of the attack, the fact that he had not even felt it coming, and that it had stunned him afterwards terrified him. How can I fight that? And what did Boukyaku have against Xian Lin?  
Carefully he looked back to Xian Lin. She was still glowing white, her face contorted into an expression of utter rage and loathing. With an articulate cry, the aura pulsed around her and shot skyward. The blast burned the sooty red from the sky above them, turning it into a burning silver. The area around Xian Lin had also transformed into a blazing bed filled with small shafts of clear crystal.  
Ranma watched this in awe before turning around and walking away. Even after the release, Xian Lin was still slightly glowing, and Ranma was not going to risk her anger in that kind of mood. He could wait, no he would wait until she settled down, but then, then she was going to answer some questions.   
"Umm, hmm," Akane mumbled as she was shaken in her sleep, "Wanna sleep." She rolled the blanket tighter around her body, snuggling into the warmth  
"Wake up, Akane," Genma's voice said. Genma shook her again, although this time he grabbed her injured shoulder. Akane's eyes snapped open as a fiery blast of pain streaked from her shoulder to her brain.   
"Itai!" she exclaimed, wrenching her shoulder away from Genma's grabbing hands.  
"Gomen," Genma said, "I didn't mean to hurt you. I-I- mean we've gotta get going. It's nearly nine in the morning."  
Rubbing her shoulder, Akane sighed. It was no use getting mad at Ranma's father. He had not known her shoulder was bruised. "Why didn't you wake me up earlier then?" She failed to keep the edge out of her voice.  
If Genma noticed this, he did not give indication of it. "I just return- ed," he explained, "Although I probably should've slept for all the good traipsing all over the city did me. I found nothing that could help us." He sighed in defeat and turned to start packing some of Ranma's things.  
He didn't find anything? I'm glad I found Miyanou-sensei. At least I'm helping, unlike Ukyou. "I found out something," Akane said. She shoved the blankets off of her. She was surprised to see that she was still dressed from the night before.   
"Huh?" Genma responded in surprise.  
"Last night, well I ran into this doctor.." Akane quickly related the story of walking out of Ranma's room and going for a walk. She glossed over the incident with the drunken men, just explaining she had been in a scuffle with some guys who had tried to take advantage of her.  
"That would explain the bruise on your cheek," Genma said as Akane spoke. Akane only nodded and lightly touched her cheek, surprised to find it tender to the touch. Ignoring it she picked up her story again and told him how she had met Miyanou-sensei and the information he had given her.  
"It helps a little," Genma conceded, "At least we know he is a real person, and maybe we've got a lead on finding him. I'm glad someone had some luck last night." He sighed in regret. "Go get Ukyou, and we'll leave in a few minutes."   
"Hai," Akane answered and disappeared out the front door. Open- ing her room, she slipped in and switched on the lights. Ukyou mum- bled in protest from the bed. Akane ignored her and started digging through her suitcase. Pulling out a change of clothes she went to the bathroom and freshened up before changing.  
She was done ten minutes later, and was quickly packing. "Wake up, Ukyou!" Akane said impatiently, "We need to get going."  
"Huh?"  
"I said wake up!" Akane piling her dirty clothes into a cloth bag and shoved it into her suitcase. What is wrong with that girl?  
Groaning Ukyou pushed the blankets away from her body and groggily stood up. She looked around and saw Akane almost finished packing. It was like a truck hit her. She was wide awake in an instant. "Why'd you let me sleep?" she demanded as she rushed around looking for her clothes.  
"Saotome-san just woke me up. I spent the night in his room," Akane explained, zipping her bag shut.  
"Nani-yo anta?!" The insult just slipped from Ukyou's lips, "You slept with Ranchan?"  
"Iie!" Akane snapped back, "I just slept on the floor because you were hogging the bed!"  
"Why didn't you just sleep in here!?"  
"Because...because of you I got this!" she exploded pointing to her cheek, "Why can't you just be nice to me, for once? I've done nothing to you!" Akane stalked out of the room before Ukyou could answer, slamming the door behind her.  
Ukyou starred at the door with wide eyes. She had not wanted to explode, but everything was getting to her. It seemed that Ranma was slipping from her moment by moment, and Akane was the reason. She touched him, she slept in the same room as him..Damn her, damn her!   
She shook her head. I will not forgive her. Never. Angrily she un- dressed and put on her new clothes. She threw all of her belongings back into her bag and left the room. The day had started out bad, and she was not expecting it to get any better.  
  
They traveled north, a tense silence filling the car. Genma was too tired and distracted to talk. Akane and Ukyou, each on one side of Ranma-onna, were pointedly ignoring each other. Put together it made for a very uncomfortable two hours.  
Because of the military bases, they had to take the long way around, and then circle around the rearing mountain, the only road over the mountain being blocked off for military exercises.   
Akane watched the land pass by the car with a bored expression. She was ready to kill Ukyou, but like before, her anger had disappeared after a time. It was just so useless to hold onto it when she had other problems on her mind, the main one being her empty stomach. They had skipped breakfast in their rush to get going, and neither Akane or Ukyou had brought it up.  
Akane doubted that they were ever going to get over this morning. She was just glad she had not decided to sleep in the same bed as Ranma. Thank the gods for small favours.   
A small sign flashed past the window. She barely made out the words. Sanagu 20 km. Their first stop was not very far away. One step at a time. One step closer. She absently rested her hand on Ranma- onna's hand. She did not notice Ukyou watching her guiltily.  
Saotome-san had explained what Akane had found out the night before, telling her how Akane had gotten into a fight with some drunken men and from there had stumbled upon the doctor. There was a purple bruise on Akane's cheek bone, right beside her eye and Ukyou could tell that Akane's left shoulder was bothering her from the way she kept away from the door, sitting straight in the car.  
The pressure was just getting to her, causing her to make rash decisions. Last night she had not meant to yell at Akane. It was just that seeing her feed Ranchan had released a roaring green beast within her. When Akane had spilled the soup she had reacted without thinking, trying to force Akane away.  
It had worked, but Akane had gotten hurt because of that. It did not matter that Akane should not have gone out, she had and it was because of her. Who could blame her for not wanting to sleep in the same room with the girl who had prompted such a disasterous night. Ukyou knew she would've done the same thing, maybe even sleeping in the same bed as Ranma.  
Ukyou realized that Akane had shown a great deal of restraint throughout the whole ordeal. She had not intentionally tried to aggravate matters, and in many cases Akane had been the only reason Ukyou herself had not been at Saotome's throat.  
At the least she owed Akane an appology for her behaiour, but she just did not know how to go about it. It was apparent that Akane was not in the mood to talk to her, and Ukyou was unable to express an aplogy to someone who had always been a rival.   
Miserable, Ukyou leaned against the window. She wished there was an easy way out of everything, but there was no easy answer. Even if Ranchan was cured, someone was going to be hurt. She just prayed to the kami that it would not be herself. Hadn't her life been filled with enough pain already? "I love you, Ranchan," Ukyou whispered quiely as she watched the rocky landscape speed by.  
  
Sanagu was a small traditional village. Akane decided that it could not have a population more than two thousand people. But even two thousand was more than enough to search through for information.  
Genma parked the car in the village square. Several old men were playing separate games of shogi on a porch across from them. Stepping out of the car, Genma walked over to the men and started talking with them. Akane watched from the car.  
When Genma sat down and began to play a game with one of the older men, she sighed and opened the door. Maybe she could uncover some more information like she had the previous night. Besides, searching for information would kept her away from Ukyou.   
She walked through the streets of Sanagu. It was not very large, only three main streets that ran parallel to the expressway and maybe a dozen or so interconnecting streets. The place was desolate. In her entire search she only came upon a few dozen people, most of them older women or men. There were a few younger women watching over children who were not at school, and even a few young men, but other than that the village was a ghost town.  
It took her a while to figure out why this was. The only possibility was that most of the people had jobs outside of the village, either at one of the military bases or back in Nago. It was not uncommon for rural people to commute into the city. This was substantiated more by a bus stop she found at one end of the village.  
After an hour or so, Akane decided it was useless to continue searching. There were not very many people here, and most of them stayed away from her since she was a stranger. She made her way back to the car to find Genma finishing his game with the old man.   
Standing up, Genma payed his respects and returned to the car. A bright smile on his face.  
"What did you find out?" Akane asked curiously.  
"No one has seen Ouchi-sensei for about a year, but then he doesn't come down to Sanagu very often according to those men. They told me to try in the next village up, since when he does come here it is generally from that direction."  
"So we just follow along village to village, like Miyanou-sensei said?" Akane asked, crestfallen. This was probably going to take longer than she had hoped. Just please don't let it be longer than five days.   
"Soo-de su, we follow where the path leads," Genma answered.  
Ukyou silently watched and listened to the two as she sat beside Ranma-onna. He knew she was not going ot be much help. Really she had only come akong to be with Ranma, and show him she cared. When he woke up, she planned to be the first person he saw. Other than that, her prescence on this trip was distasteful to her. She just wanted to help Ranchan.   
  
Ranma sat patiently on the ground, watching as Xian Lin walked back to him. Thousands of questions were spinning in his head at the moment, and he was going to get answers to some of them.  
Xian Lin walked wearily, her head down. Ranma could feel her exhaustion and grief in addition to the anger that ran beneath it all. Patiently he waited while she made her way to him and then finally sat down in front of him. She did not drop her eyes but instead bore her gaze into his. He knew she was studying his thoughts, trying to find out what he was going to do.   
She found the answer. He just wanted the truth. There was nothing else that would help him. The only thing that mattered to Ranma was getting home to Akane and his life. Xian Lin was going to help him so he was not going to push her away from him. In addition to this, he had come to like the girl in his time trapped with her. He did not blame her any longer for the curse, it was not her fault, but he still wanted the truth. They had to be open between each other.  
"What do you want to know?"Xian Lin asked in a heavy voice.  
There were a thousand questions he wanted to ask, but only one really mattered. "What was Boukyaku talking about? Why does he know you? Why does he hate you?"  
"It goes back to when I was trapped in the pool, when I died," she began, watching Ranma with sad eyes, "I told you I was an Amazon. The Amazon's are the keepers of Boukyaku's prisons. The Judgment of Boukyaku was placed upon Amazons who had done the unspeakable or who were undesirable. You see by sending them to Boukyaku there soul was obliterated thereby making it impossible for them to be reborn into the tribe. His is the ultimate punishment, worse than exile. Even in exile the soul will be reborn."  
She paused as a grimace of pain and grief crossed her face. "I was sixteen at the time of my death. I was in love with a man who I was not supposed to love. At that time it was forbidden, but I could not help myself. We defied the elders, but that is not a great enough offense for the Judgement, except that he was not of the Amazon tribe, I made him part of it."  
"To punish me and him they passed the Judgment on him. I was devastated. Not only would I lose him in that life, I could never have him again, ever. For ten days of his sentence I stayed within my hut. They kept him locked away from me, so we could not do anythign rash. Finally I decided on an action."  
Ranma could feel the memory of fear and indecision, the appalling chance she was about to take. "There is a way to break the Judgement without a Matriarch."  
"How?" Ranma asked.  
"It's the statue that is the key. There were thirteen of them when I died. Boukyaku enters the one that is given to the cursed individual. It takes fourteen days to do. Each day he becomes stronger until the fourteenth when he is fully in the statue. What I was going to do could only be done on the last night."  
"Since the statue is a prison, if it is broken, Boukyaku is released into the world. Boukyaku stays there until the person who released him is either dead or defeats him. It was a risk I was willing to take."  
"On the fourteenth night, the tribe convened outside of the village, near Jusenkyo. It was at that place that all of our ceremonies were held. They brought forth my lover. He stood so bravely before them, his head held high, his eyes blazing in the night. In his right hand he held the statue. I acted"  
"Rushing forward, I knocked him down and lifted a large hammer. I slammed it down on the statues, releasing a small blast of ki to weaken it. It shattered, releasing Boukyaku into this world."  
"I was terrified as I saw him. I-I can't even describe what he looks like, it is horrible, horrible, but I stood and faced him, standing over my lover. We began to fight."  
"Actually it can't be called a fight. I was simply trying to survive, allow my love to escape. He didn't. He came to help me." Xian Lin stopped speaking as her voice broke, tears glistening in her eyes. "The blow would have killed me, but he took it. He died in front of me, no last words. His body had been crushed."  
"I-I died right then. But I had one small victory, I had saved his soul. He would be reborn into the tribe. And I decided to join him. I was going to die at the hands of Boukyaku anyway. I knew I could not defeat him. I did not have the experience or the power. So I ran."  
"Boukyaku chased me as I fled into Jusenkyo. There I finally turned and faced Boukyaku. Pure hunger pulsed from that bastard as he loomed over me, but I was not going to go to Boukyaku. My soul was my own."  
"I drew in my ki, let it build and build until I was burning with power. It was more than I had ever held before, and at the last moment I changed it, I forced it in on myself, turning it into a burning shaft of white that struck through my body, exploding around me, filling me with a sublime joy. That is the last thing I remember before entering the pool. But that is another story."  
Ranma was about to press but he caught an edge of the unfathom- able grief and quilt that hung just beneath the surface. He decided that her explanation satisfied him enough. "I can see why you hate Bouk- yaku. I can see why you're helping me, but can you face Boukyaku now? I mean before he completely out matched you." Ranma asked cautiously, worry gnawing at him.  
"Hai, I can," Xian Lin said, "For fifteen hundred years I've been imprisoned, fighting for that entire time. In this form I am powerful enough to contend with him, especially if you help me Ranma. You're as powerful as me in your own way." Ranma nodded.  
"I think we should go seek this thing out," Ranma said, "I'm not letting him sneak up on me like he did."  
"We can try, but I doubt Boukyaku'll show before everything is ready. Its strength must be full before it risks another attack. This one was just to scare and unsettle us."  
"C'mon, we've got a lot of work to do," Ranma said. He took Xian Lin's hand and pulled her to her feet. "I want us to be perfectly in tune. It will make things easier."  
"How are we going to do that?" Xian Lin asked.  
"I was hoping you had some ideas." Xian Lin smiled in response.   
  
The next two and a half days passed in a blur for Akane. From Sanagu they visited many other villages, each one ending almost exactly the same as the previous one. "No we've not seen him. But the people in the next village might have seen him."  
It became increasingly frustrating. It was almost like Ouchi-sensei had dropped from the face of the earth. And then they found something different, a place where they actually knew Ouchi-san. Though they had not seen him for a few months, they directed the weary and bedraggled party to another village.  
Unfortunately it was a small village and cars could not get to it, since it was part way up the mountain side. The decision was easily made. They decided to walk, paying a villager to use his mule so they could take Ranma. According to their informer the village of Okino- kami was a half day walk from his village. It was mid morning at that point, so they decided to leave and head for Okinokami.  
The trip was a pleasant one for Akane. Spring was blooming around them, as they moved through the forested mountain side. Birds chirped incessantly from the treetops, filling the air with their melodious warbling. Small rodents scurried in the undergrowth and she even caught glimpses of larger animals. It was a refreshing break from the normal country-side around Nerima. All of the forested land was either empty of wildlife, frightened off by the human presence or immacu- lately groomed in parks.  
She wanted Ranma to be able to enjoy this with her, and if every thing worked out, he would on the way back. She smiled happily to herself and continued to enjoy the walk through the woods, reveling in the sounds and the scents of the wild.  
Unfortunately her good cheer did not last long. The village was quiet and empty of life when they arrived early in the afternoon. They split up and searched, hoping to find a reason. The reason soon became apparent. Every thing that was in the village was sound asleep, even the animals.   
Akane sat on the ground a sour expression on her face. "What could put a whole village to sleep?" she asked of no one in particular, "I mean why would someone want a whole village to sleep? It's not as if they are important to anyone..."  
"Cologne!" All three of them said in unison.  
"Chikusho!" Akane swore.  
"How does that baba stay ahead of us?" Ukyou asked in exas- peration. She pounded her fist into her open palm in frustration.  
"She must really want Ranma this time. She's playing hardball," Genma noted, looking around at the deserted village.  
Akane pushed herself off the ground. "I'm going for a walk" This was not how things were supposed to happen. They were supposed to find Ouchi-sensei and cure Ranma. Now they were at a dead end. It was not fair.  
No one stopped her so she walked off into the woods, wandering slowly up the mountain, following a trail that led away from the village. She was near tears. Now she had to give Ranma to Shampoo. What other choice was there? They had wasted all of the time chasing after this cure, and it was impossible to go back to China and see if the Amazons would reverse the Judgement. They had lost.  
Akane continued to walk, lost in her own thoughts. She did not even realize it when she came into a clearing. It was only when she noticed a small cottage in the clearing that she became excited. Could this be where Ouchi-sensei lived?  
Hope welled up within her. Maybe not all was lost. "Ouchi-sensei!" she called, "Are you here? We need your help. It's very important. Please answer me!"  
There was no answer. Then Akane had a sudden inspiration. What if Cologne had put him to sleep also? Then all she had to do was find him and wake him up. It seemed so easy, so perfect. She rushed up to the cottage and into it.  
The place looked like it had not been lived in for a time. There was no dust, but the place just did not have a feel of a place that held human life. Slowly she checked the four small rooms. There was nothing, just furniture, books, and decorations.  
Slipping into a depression again, Akane went outside into the back of the cottage, hoping there might be one more place to look. She found a small garden, immaculately kept. A stone path ran through the center and around a koi pond. Bonsai were planted in sparse yet perfect arrangements. It was beautiful.   
She followed the path, looking for something that could help her. She noticed a marker off to the side. Curious, she went over to it and knelt before it. Her heart chilled as she saw it, tears burning in her eyes. "No, no, no, no! It's not fair! It's not fair! I don't want to lose Ranma." She collapsed against Ouchi-sensei's gravestone, crying her heart out.  
  
Author's Notes:  
  
Wow, that was a long one. Ha I love a good ending. Hey don't look at me like that. Life is not always kind and it never works out how we want it to, I try and have my writing reflect that. You'll notice that MASN will be very grim at times, no not really dark, but grim and realistic. This is not meant to be comedy, it is meant to be drama, and maybe some tragedy in there for effect.  
For a quick translation note: Nani-yo anta is a simple insult. It basically translates as to Who do you think you are? Although it is a little stronger. Nani-yo anta is the version used by females. The anta is a deragatory slang form of anata which means 'you'. And I don't know how Ukyou's accent would change this. If a boy was saying this phrase it would become nani temee. Got it? Good ^_^  
You'll have to forgive my Ukyou. I don't want her to be a complete vengeance nut, but I don't think that Akane and her would be getting along very well. More than ever they are rivals now. Ukyou see athreat in the closeness Akane is demonstrating with Ranma. She realizes that she is not assured of winning anymore. With all the engagements out the window, and Akane being nice, will Ranma still want her? It is a painful realization, so she acts like this. She feels sorry for her anger, but cannot take the step of forgiving and fogetting, and maybe becoming friends with Akane. So that explains Ukyou.  
Xian Lin...Oh I'm loving this character. I can do whatever I want with her and not have to worry about OOC, why? Because I created her, bwahahahaha..... Seriosuly though. I enjoy creating characters from scratch, although I'm trying to create them within the story, hence Xian Lin's origin. Besides I love playing around with the stories behind the curses.  
I really don't want to write a lot of Author's Notes. I want C&C on my characters. How do you like them? Are they really OOC? What can be changed? I can do grammar and spelling, but my characters are my weakest point in my self editting. So please help.  
Well I'm going to leave it at that.   
Please keep reading. Thanks to everyone who has shown interest in my writing so far. Somehow that make s it all worth it.  
  
Ja ne for now  
  
Until next time  
Joseph A. Kohle  
  
----*----*----*----*----*----*----*----*----*----  
All rights and priveleges to Ranma Nibunnoichi   
belong to Rumiko Takahashi. The characters of her   
series are used without her permission for the   
purpose of entertainment only. This work of fic-  
tion is not meant for sale or profit.   
  
All original characters are the creation of the  
author. All copyright privileges to these chara-  
cters are reserved for the author.  
  
This story is a product of the author's hard work   
and imagination. Do not modify, add to, or make   
use of any part of this work without the author's   
knowledge and consent. Please feel free to archive   
this work.   
  
Comments and criticism are welcome.   
Written by Joseph A. Kohle, (c) 1997.   
Send all comments to Ashira@worldnet.att.net 


	9. Vol 2 Chap 5

DISCLAIMER: Ranma Nibunnoichi is the property of Takahashi Rumiko, Shogakukan Inc, Shonen Sunday Comics, and Viz Video. It is used without their permission and is not intended for profit but only for the enjoyment of fans of the Ranma series. All characters within this fic that are not the property of the above mentioned are copyrighted to the author, Joseph Kohle, January 1997. This work of fiction is the result of the author's hard work and is for the enjoyment of others. Please do not change, modify, or use any segment of this story without the author's knowing and written consent. Feel free to archive this work.  
  
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Meiyo Ai soshite Nikushimi  
  
A Ranma Nibunnoichi Fanfic  
by Joseph Kohle   
Part II: The Judgement of Boukyaku  
Chapter V Sacrifice and Betrayal  
  
  
Nabiki was rooted in front of the television sightlessly watching a movie as it played out on the screen. A dramatic play of tragedy and despair. It told the tale of two lovers ripped apart when one's family falls to disgrace. There was no point to watching the feature, she already knew the ending. Driven by disastrous circumstances, the two lovers had done the unthinkable and taken their lives committing shinjuu; however, it was not a traditional shinjuu, they did not bind themselves hand and foot, plunging into the water to certain death. Instead the dishonored male went to seek vengeance on the one who had dishonored him fully expecting his own death.  
Penning his beloved a note of farewell filled with his dread inten- tions, he departed and sought out the ronin who had brought him down. When he found the churlish ronin, the twice-cursed, base-caste, bastard had been in the midst of attempting to kill his patron, the one to whom the ronin had dishonored the hero. Having nothing to lose, the samurai places himself in harms way and prevents the assassination and forces the ronin to his knees and confession, gaining back his lost honour.  
At the same time his lover found the note. Distraught with grief, realizing she would never be with her lover, she took her family tanto and spilled her blood and life upon the thirsty earth. She died expecting to join him in paradise.   
The hero returned, reinstated to his samurai status as a personal retainer of his patron, to find his love dead by her own hand. Realizing the horrendous result of his path, he had taken his life using the same tanto, mixing their blood as he committed shinjuu.  
The tragedy and sorrow of the tale were poignant to Nabiki. How could she not be moved? Had not her sister returned only a few hours ago, ravaged by grief? Nabiki shuddered as her sister's face flashed through her mind.   
Lunch was ending, the family circling the table when they heard the front door open. Curious, Nabiki turned towards the hall to see who was intruding within their home. The wait was not long as Akane turned into the hallway and moved towards the family, slowly dragging her feet, her head bowed like she carried the weight of the world on her shoulders.   
"Akane!" Kasumi had stated in her cheerful voice as she glanced up from the table to see her younger sister, "Did everything.." Kasumi's voice had died as Akane lifted her face from the floor, the room's light illuminating her features. "Oh my.."  
Nabiki sucked in her breath in surprise and sympathy. It was not Akane that had returned from the trip. Some hollow shell that had acquired her younger sister's features now stood before Nabiki. Her skin was waxy, ghostly pale in the incandescent light, like an unfinished porcelain doll. Unkept, lusterless hair framed the pale face. But the eyes, her eyes were a blow to Nabiki. Her sister had always had a vi- brant spark within her, a burning personality that blazed brighter than a thousand fires on a dark night. Her eyes had no longer held that. Wooden orbs of pain and sorrow stared back at her, rending her own heart.  
Nabiki switched off the television as the samurai's childhood love read the note. She could not take that. It was enough that her own sister had been thrown into the depths of depression. Nothing had roused Akane from her room since she had returned. Akane had not even mentioned what had happened, shambling past her stunned family and disappearing upstairs.  
The story had been dragged from a silent Saotome Genma as Ukyou had returned Ranma to his room and then had left the house quietly, leaving the family alone. Nabiki and the rest had listened intently as Genma had explained the failed attempt.   
She had listened as he explained finding out the information from Miyanoo-sensei and then the trail that had led to Okinokami, the mysterious sleeping village. He had told them of Akane wandering off, only to return hours later looking very similar to how she had looked upon returning home.  
According to Genma, Ukyou and himself had been unable to get anything from Akane except a imperceptible motion to follow the path on which she had returned. Worried they had followed the path to find Ouchi-sensei's home and his grave marker in the garden. Apparently he had died several months previously of simple old age. Their mission had been worth nothing, a false hope that had thrown Akane into a deep depression.  
Nabiki was terrified for her sister, afraid of what might happen if things continued like this. Her extra-curricular activities had given her an insight into the human psyche, and just to be prepared she had spent time study psychology and mental afflictions. She knew that sometimes people just withdraw from the world when faced with overwhelming tragedies. In most cases the person would return on their own, but in a few cases the victim had simply wasted away to death.   
Trying to prevent this, she and Kasumi had both gone to Akane after hearing Genma's tale. They had found her curled on her bed clutching a picture frame tightly to her chest, rocking gently on the bed.   
They had tried to talk with her, comfort her, reason with her, even bribe her. Nothing they had said had reached her, nothing had broken through to the Akane that was locked within that pathetic vessel laying on Akane's bed. The whole thing was tearing Nabiki up. She was feel- ing horrid about her sister's suffering and helpless because there was nothing that she could do to alleviate it. Cologne held all the cards now, the one hope of a cure they had had was a fleeting puff of smoke dissipated by a transient breeze.  
If there was a way, Nabiki knew that she could find it eventually, but this time nothing had played out right. It was as if fate and the kami were playing against them, betting on them to lose. Damn Cologne. Damn her.  
Cologne had done something that Nabiki found reprehensible, un- forgivable. The ghoul had hurt her family, and Nabiki promised herself that she would find a way to ruin the old woman. If she had been a samurai, it would have been blood debt between them, but now it was just a personal vendetta with Nabiki. Attacking Ranma like she had was enough to anger Nabiki. She liked Ranma, he was a part of the family, or would be, she had no doubts about that. But now it also involved her sister. For that Cologne would pay and pay dearly.  
So caught up in her own plans of revenge, Nabiki did not hear it at first, but soon it became hard not to notice in the tomb-like stillness of the house. A soft, coughing sob was echoing through the house, steadily growing stronger. Akane. Nabiki knew it was her sister immediately, she was the only who might be crying.   
More importantly, it meant that Akane had finally returned to herself, breaking from her depression and shock. Nabiki hurriedly scrambled to her feet and rushed upstairs, some of her worry and fear dissipating under this auspicious turn of events. She found Kasumi already in Akane's room, holding their younger sister as she sobbed uncontrollably in her oneechan's arms. Silently, Nabiki joined them and held both of them as Akane cried, the closeness of her beloved sisters comforting the stricken child.   
It was a subdued Akane that joined the family. To anyone who had not seen her earlier, she would have appeared sickly and withdrawn, but compared to her earlier bearing, this Akane was doing much better. She picked at her food and watched the family a little. Her skin was not as pale, yet her eyes were still haunted mirrors. There was not much conversation at the table that night. No one was going to chance bringing up a subject that might unhinge Akane again. She was at least now back among the living, for which Nabiki and the rest were very thankful.  
The silence that hung over the table was a miasma that improved the situation like a festering sore improved one's health. Nabiki felt the tension around the table, even Kasumi was subdued, a sad expression on her face. Ranma's father ate absently, not even bothering to try and take more than he was given. Her father was crying softly, mumbling about how his and Saotome's lines would never be joined.  
Just as the depressing atmosphere was becoming too much for Nabiki, Akane stood up and left the table. "I need to be alone," she explained as she left the dining area and walked down the hall to the front door. Nabiki watched Akane leave with a worried expression. She silently hoped Akane found some sort of solution while she was out. Sometimes being alone to think was the best medicine. She knew from personal experience. Who had ever been lonelier than her?  
  
A hot breeze tugged incessantly at his loose pants, demanding his attention with ravenous glee. Closing his eyes, Ranma attempted to ignore it, ignore the withering heat that had gradually intensified over the incalculable time since Boukyaku had attacked him. Delving within himself he retreated from the prison realm and found his focal point. Gathering it tightly around himself like he would a thick blanket on a cold night, Ranma found a serene safety from the deceptions of Boukyaku's realm.  
This safety was as much an illusion as the prison. To stay here was unthinkable, he needed to connect with his physical body, spread the calm of his inner being to reality and eventually into his surroundings. Encompassing his body within the peace he floated was a simple task. There were no surprises for him within his body. Every muscle, tendon, bone, sense was instinctively known to him. So he only needed to include his body as a part of his psyche and ki.   
Soon he felt the repulsive environment around him, caressing his body. Though it was muted by the calm he had embraced, he needed to spread that calm into the world to break Boukyaku's spell. In theory it was easy to do. Take the inner calm and create a skin around himself, while making the physical body the center; however, even in the relatively passive surroundings Xian Lin had taught him in, he had only accomplished the task once. It was like draining the ocean with a sieve. For every few drops he managed to hold in place, most returned from whence it came.   
In a hostile environment, it was like he was trying to move the water through a thick layer of ice, while he was drowning underneath it. This was not to say that Ranma did not try. He threw his whole being into it, trying to shatter the ice and begin protecting himself. It was to no avail. Boukyaku was too strong for him. He did not have the control, the experience to do it. Reluctantly, he released his hold and felt peace slip away from him only to be replaced by the nauseating taste of the damnable prison.  
Forcing himself to ignore Boukyaku's influence, Ranma turned to face Xian Lin. Unlike him, she could seal herself away from the prison and had been doing so for most of the time since Boukyaku had confronted them. Before slipping into her meditative trance, she had explained that she was much more vulnerable than him and that it would be safer for her.   
Against his better judgement, he had relented to her request and watched with mixed emotions as she left him alone again. Sighing he glanced at the sky. It was no longer the sooty red. Instead a chaotic swirl of fire and darkness hung over his head, an omen of the power he faced. The world around him, like the sky, was blooming into its semblance of life as Boukyaku became more firmly entrenched in the single statue instead of the twelve.  
Heat radiated in waves from the parched ground. Hot breezes rushed over the land grabbing dust and adding to the grow storms of wind and sand. The mountains were burning in the distance, and rivers of flames meandered across the land like burning trails of gasoline.   
Most of it did not touch Ranma. It stayed beyond his reach, pushed back by his own hold on reality and himself. Only the hot breeze made its way to him, penetrating his defenses as easily as a needle pushes aside the individual fibers of cloth.   
Ignoring the breeze, he returned his contemplation to Xian Lin. She was meditating in the lotus position, her hands resting easily on her knees, her head bowed forward. The quiet of the area around him was disturbing. Since he had met her, Xian Lin had made a point of talking incessantly. As if she were trying to make up for fifteen hundred years of imposed silence, she would rattle on about anything and everything.   
At first her garrulous nature had taken him by surprise and caused him a certain amount of uneasiness. Simply talking with someone for the joy of talking was a new experience to him. In most cases he never conversed normally with any of his friends. They never chatted about how they felt, what they liked, what their goals were. It was always threats, insults, plots, and misunderstandings. To compound the situation, he was not very good with words. Speaking always resulted in him making a slip of the tongue. Generally this brought about unwelcome and often disastrous and painful results.   
With Xian Lin, he rarely spoke unless he was instructing her or asking questions. Instead he listened to the constant flow of words, mesmerized by her voice. She had a beautiful voice, a rich alto that caressed each word as she spoke it. After a time he was so used to the sound of her talking about the people she had been trapped within, the things she had seen, that when she was silent he had checked to make sure she was okay.  
At most of those times she was not. He remembered the sullen expression that filled her face whenever she fell silent. He knew she was suffering. The pain and grief rang like a bell in his mind at those times. It was her original life that was making her suffer, and he did not know how to make her talk about it, but it hurt her, and so in a way hurt him.  
He hated those silences, and now he was aching to hear her voice again. Living in silence with nothing but Boukyaku's hatred throbbing around him was fraying his already taunt nerves. Maybe if I go up to her. She should know I'm there. Maybe she'll decide to return for a bit, just to talk.  
A few twinges rippled through his muscles as he moved from the spot he had occupied for what had seemed like hours. He took a few tentative steps and then began to walk in earnest toward Xian Lin once he had every part of his body under control once more.  
He felt a snarl rumble through the prison. Boukyaku was becoming stronger by the minute. It would not be long before they faced the cursed beast. He smiled grimly. The thought still terrified him, he would not deny that, but the prospect of doing something was exhilarating in its own right. It meant that he was going to return to Akane soon.   
Smiling softly as her face flashed through his mind, he stopped directly behind Xian Lin. He missed Akane, more than he had thought possible. It seemed that a year had slipped by while he was trapped. So much was left unfinished between them. There was so much that he still needed to do, that Akane deserved to have him do. The first thing I'm going to tell her is that I love her.   
Carefully he reached out and touched Xian Lin's shoulder, resting his hand on her warm body. "Xian Lin," he called, "I think it's almost time." He smiled then and added, "Besides, I need something to drown out Boukyaku's muttering, and your voice is perfect for the job." He laughed as he felt her anger flash through his mind.  
  
Xian Lin patiently hovered within her protective aura. Through the centuries of her curse, this had been the way she had kept her sanity within the turbulent and violent energies she was forced to be a part of. In this way she was able to watch the world and keep safe. Although it was harder and it was more like sensing than seeing, it was a way to interact without the danger of direct involvement like she had taken with Ranma.  
To any who would try this, they would find the experience not unlike floating beneath the surface of a hot spring. There was a detached calm and freedom of movement for the body and soul, only the energy that surrounded the body could be felt, while the outside world was perceived as a tremor against that energy. If she could have remembered the experience, Xian Lin would have realized that what she was experiencing was almost exactly what she had felt within her mother's womb.  
She had calmly observed the increase in Boukyaku's presence within the single statue Ranma and herself were trapped. Soon it would be time to face the cause of so many of her woes, and in spite of her determination, she was terrified.  
Boukyaku was stronger than the last time. She could feel the pure malevolence and desire to be free in the thing. He knew there was a chance to be free. He knew that there was an unprotected body waiting to be his vessel.   
More than anything Xian Lin would not allow such a thing to happen. If it meant her own death and Ranma's to keep the creature from the face of the Earth, she would gladly pay the price a hundred, a thousand times over.  
There were none but her who had contacted Boukyaku's mind and uncovered the twisted desires that lay therein. The horrors that Boukyaku contemplated were unimaginable. Once in the world, the demon would become unstoppable, jumping from one host to the other as needed, consuming soul after soul.  
The Amazons never should have made that deal. They never should have contacted that thing. We were wrong, so wrong. Why did they not realize it? Why haven't they yet? Each time we feed its hunger, it becomes that much stronger. How many have gone to oblivion since I've been trapped? Too many, if Boukyaku is this strong. Too many.  
She had assured Ranma that they could win. She was not so sure of their abilities anymore. Even with Ranma's strength and potential, the battle was going to be barely even. He was just too inexperienced to face this creature, and no matter what, even if they could hold Boukyaku, unless someone broke the curse, Ranma was doomed. There was nothing she could do to prevent that from occurring. The hold of the statue and the curse placed upon Ranma would simply side with Boukyaku and destroy Ranma.  
To tell him that was beyond her though. She knew that only the hope of freedom was forcing him onward. His desire to see his beloved Akane, to return to his life were making it possible for him to face this threat. If he even knew how little of a chance he had, how much hinged on people they could not see, contact, or even find out about, his resolve and courage would shatter like a crystal vase thrown against a wall.  
She cared for Ranma. Being trapped within him, she had gained a deep understanding of his life and motivations. She was the only soul to fully understand what made the young man do what he did. On account of this, she had become attached to him over the time she had been fighting him to stay alive. At times she tried to help, but it was so hard to do against Ranma. He was stronger than Boukyaku when he was in full control of his body, and maybe that strength would save him. She hoped it would. She did not want to see him lose. He did not need any more suffering in his short life.  
The familiar presence of Ranma approaching, broke Xian Lin's thoughts. He was very worried and..lonely. The thought surprised her. She had never thought that Ranma might miss her company. She had gone into seclusion to keep herself at full strength. Truthfully fighting off Boukyaku's clumsy attempts to control them would have only stretched her reserves a tiny amount. Maybe she should start paying more attention to him. He was being very nice to her, and it was enjoyable to be able to talk with someone again, even if he stayed silent most of the time.  
She felt his hand break through her barrier and touch her physical body. It was impossible to ignore such things. Boukyaku used manipulation, but Ranma was real, and her meditation was not meant to protect against physical attacks. She heard his voice calling her, telling her to wake up. She muttered angrily as he told her he needed her voice to override Boukyaku. So what if I talk a lot? I wanna see him stay silent after fifteen hundred years. What a baka.   
Quickly she released her hold on the barrier and let the prison to her physical body and senses. Just as quickly she pushed aside all of the small tricks Boukyaku had created, leaving a sterile environment around her. It was an environment that should be there.  
Quickly she scanned the world. It was hard to judge things within her meditative state, and Boukyaku had gained a strong foothold while she was occupied. Silently she berated her carelessness. As if they needed a harder time from all of this. They were already fighting an uphill battle, and she had let the enemy get entrenched.  
"This is going to be difficult," Xian Lin explained carefully, watch- ing the burning landscape, "We need to go and confront Boukyaku, but not on his ground. We need the neutral area, the realm we've become used to. Otherwise we'll be trapped in his deceptions."  
Ranma nodded once in response. His martial training already detecting the danger in facing someone on their own turf. Only fight on ground of the enemies choosing when there was no other option. "How do we do that?" He knew she had the answer.  
"It doesn't take much," Xian Lin explained. She turned to face Ranma and reached her hand up to his. As if he were expecting this, Ranma took her hand and helped Xian Lin to her feet in one smooth motion. Taking his other hand, Xian Lin closed her eyes. "Just relax and do what I do. It won't take long and it will be easier to start doing it now than once we are fighting."   
"Hai," Ranma responded. He said nothing else as he opened his mind to Xian Lin. The connection was easy to forge between them. Soon Xian Lin was leading him through the steps that would protect themselves by breaking Boukyaku's hold.  
  
With a heavy heart, Toufu-sensei rolled the last of the scrolls and bound it, the ribbon rasping against the dry and brittle paper. Since Saotome Genma had called him from the airport in Okinawa, he had buried himself in his library looking for an answer, even if it was only a way to prolong the time Ranma had. Nothing. There was nothing he was going to be able to do.   
There were hundreds of remedies for possessions, curses, and haunting oni, but they were folk remedies, many of them based in mythology. The possibility of any of them actually working was slim. He doubted any of them would work. One reason was that Boukyaku was bound to the Amazon tribe. Having Cologne and Shampoo in Nerima had given him an insight into the Amazon culture. He under- stood that they were a closed people, and very individualistic. This would insure that none outside of the tribe learned the secrets of Boukyaku, and even in the tribe it was in all likelihood reserved to the few older females.   
Second, the statue was the key to the whole curse. The statue held both Ranma's ki and the physical form of Boukyaku. Most of the remedies worked on the physical body or the flow of ki within the body. Since Ranma had no attainable ki, Toufu-sensei knew that trying any of the remedies would be useless as sowing seeds on a bare rock.  
If he could only find a way to remove some of Ranma's ki from the statue and back to his body, then they could simply destroy the bloody thing. With just a slight amount of ki, Ranma could regain his health in a few weeks. There was something nagging him, something familiar about replacing lost ki. The connection was just out of his grasp though. It was some sort of herb, but what? None of his scrolls had mentioned it, but he knew there was something he had heard before. If he could only remember..  
His thoughts were broken as he heard the door to his clinic open and close. "Toufu-sensei? Are you here?" Toufu recognized Akane's voice and pushed away from the table he was sitting at, the chair legs scrapping against the wooden floor.  
"I'm back here, Akane," he called as he left his small library, closing the door behind him. He found her in the hallway, waiting for him. Head bowed and shoulders slumped in dejection, she glanced up at his soft step. A hope-filled plea glowed in her hazel eyes as she looked at him.  
The memory swept into him unbidden. The eight-year old Akane was curled in a chair in his Sensei's clinic. Her knees were drawn up so her forehead rested on them as she gently rocked herself. She glanced up at him as the door to the examining room closed. "Will mommy be okay?" she asked in a fearful voice. Wide eyes begged him to tell her that her mother was going to be fine.   
His Sensei had told him to leave the room, but even he knew that Tendou Kimiko was terminally ill. There was nothing to be done, but he felt sorry for this scared little child. She looked so lost and alone, even with her family sitting in the waiting room. Kneeling down beside her, he brushed a tear from her cheek. "I'll do everything I can, Akane- chan. Your mommy is a very strong person." She smiled a bit at him and then hugged him around his neck.  
It was not so easy this time. Akane was no longer child. Evading the question was not an option, but he did not want to hurt the child. It was obvious that she was already suffering. Her bearing was of a person who had nearly given up. She was coming to him for one last chance, one hope that might help her, knowing full ell that it was not to be. If I just had one thing to give her, just one thing.  
"Is there anything? Can you help him?" she asked her voice for that instant sounding exactly like she had nine years ago.  
The poor child. I wish I could help you. "I looked, Akane. I'm sorry, there was just.. I can't do.."  
Her eyes dropped, her shoulders shaking silently. "I-I understand. I know you tried, but.. It's just like with Mom."  
Toufu watched the girl slowly turn around and start walking down the hall. Helpless he stood in place. He was a doctor, skilled in the healing of wounds, treatment of maladies, but human suffering was beyond him. "Akane," he called. She stopped and looked back at him over her shoulder. "There is always hope. I'm not giving up yet."  
Akane was silent. Slowly she turned away and took a step before stopping again. "Everyone told me to hope for the best when Mom was dying. I did. I prayed to the kami and promised to give up everything if she would just get better. It was all useless. She still died. I won't let him die. There is nothing left but one thing to do. I lose him, but he lives." She began walking away. "Why do I lose everyone I care for?" she whispered as she disappeared into the waiting room. A moment later, the door to the outside opened and closed, leaving Toufu alone and miserable.  
  
"Aahh!" Ranma cried out as a burst of flame exploded in front of him. "I thought you said we'd be safe while doing this."  
"Ignore it. None of this can hurt you. Boukyaku is extending his powers to place this in our sphere," Xian Lin said. To prove her point she calmly walked into a pillar of flame and stood there nonchalantly until the illusion disappeared.  
"Show off," Ranma muttered and continued walking. He still wasn't sure about any of this. Everything looked so real, so dangerous. As if to prove his point, the ground in front of him cracked open, a vent of white steam hissing into the air. As the steam cleared he saw a twenty foot chasm in front of him. He was about to jump across the obstacle, when he noticed Xian Lin walking unconcerned across the open air. Maybe she is right.   
Closing his eyes he stepped forward willing the ground to be there. His foot hit on solid rock. He took another step and another. Sighing in relief he opened his eyes and almost snapped them shut in surprise. He was standing over a black pit that extended down into immeasurable depths. Gulping he continued to step gingerly across the chasm until he reached the other side.   
"See it's not that hard," Xian Lin commented as Ranma reached the other side, "Just trust me, I've been doing this longer than you."  
"Oh, so you're used to being trapped in statues fighting obscenely powerful demons?" Ranma drawled. He was feeling foolish and defensive because he had been scared.   
"Don't start," Xian Lin warned, "We need to keep connected and fighting between us is exactly what Boukyaku wants."  
"Gomen," Ranma apologized. She was right as usual.  
"And to answer your question. This is a lot like trying to survive against you, although you're a lot more subtle and much more deadly to deal with. I prefer these clumsy and unimaginative attempts."  
Ranma smiled at the partial compliment. Although he did not remember ever facing off against her, he believed her, and he was feeling slightly guilty about it. He had not realized that his curse actually had a real side to it. To him it had been an annoyance and sometimes a fun game, but no matter what, he had always hated it and tried his utmost to repress and deny the curse.  
They continued to walk. They had decided to walk towards the center around which the burning heavens were swirling. It seemed to be a focal point, and that meant that Boukyaku was most likely entrench- ing himself there. It was spurious logic, but it was all they had to work on. Weren't they supposed to be denying this world, not accepting certain parts of it? How dangerous was it to walk toward an illusion, anyway? Besides they had to do something besides sitting and waiting.   
Unlike when he had been walking to the mountains, it now seemed that they were making some headway. Every time he glanced at the sky, their goal seemed to be closer, almost like it was moving toward them. He dismissed it as another fabrication of Boukyaku.  
Burning stones began to fall around them, many bouncing harmless- ly off his body. It was becoming easier to simply ignore Boukyaku's attacks. The more ridiculous they were, like the dragon that suddenly appeared over his head, and the worm like creature that tried to swallow him, the easier it was to convince himself that they were only illusions and tricks. The dragon he simply dismissed, and the worm, though it swallowed him, he just stepped through. Curious about how he could entertain himself, Ranma tried something when a chasm opened up underneath of him.  
He imagined a bridge stretching across it. As soon as the image entered his mind, he was walking on a stone bridge. He smiled to himself as he heard a snarl of rage.   
"Don't show off," Xian Lin said, "There is no need to do it."  
"But it annoys that bastard," Ranma explained, "I think I deserve to be able to nettle him."  
"Just be careful and don't get trapped in one of the illusions by fighting them with your own," Xian Lin warned.  
Ranma nodded in response and continued to walk. Truthfully he was not as worried now. Somehow it seemed like Boukyaku was not a very strong opponent. No, it wasn't that Boukyaku wasn't strong, he was just childish, and that fact irritated Ranma. It was like he was being insulted. Boukyaku was so confident that he did not need to take their presence very serious. So Ranma particular enjoyed twisting Bouk- yaku's attacks back at him.  
It continued like this for a time. Ranma contemptuously picked buckets filled with water out of the air and dumped them on fires. He casually flicked his hand to deflect avalanches of rock and mud. Once he even sent a mouse to terrorize a group of beasts stalking Xian Lin and himself. Each time the act was met with the burning hatred and rage of Boukyaku. Then the unthinkable happened. Boukyaku found his revenge.  
A cloud of smoke drifted across Ranma's course, obscuring the path in front of him. Shrugging, Ranma began to walk through the smoke when a figure appeared in the dense cloud, moving towards him. Cur- ious about what Boukyaku was doing, Ranma waited. A slight breeze swirled the smoke and the figure was directly in front of him, her hazel eyes burning with hatred and rage.  
"A-Akane," Ranma stuttered. No this is not fair. I can't fight her. I can't ignore her.  
She raised her hand and slapped him hard. His head snapped to the side, his cheek stinging from the blow. "I told you not to fight Cologne. I told you," she cried out, "And now you're going to get yourself killed. I hate you. I hate you!" She spun and ran from him, sobbing.  
"Akane!" Ranma cried and tried to follow her. A hand grabbed his shoulder and dragged him to a halt.  
"No!" Xian Lin shouted, "She's not real. She's just an illusion."  
"Akane," Ranma whimpered as the reality situation began to reassert itself in his mind. It had been so real, so very real. "That's not fair. She can't hate me. She can't."  
"She doesn't," Xian Lin comforted him, "It's what Boukyaku wants you to think. If you go to her, you lose everything, including her. Stay with me Ranma. You promised to help me get out of here. Please trust me. She wasn't real."  
"I-I know," Ranma said as he sank to the ground. Xian Lin kneeled next to him and grabbed his shoulders, locking her gaze to his. "I-I just can't do anything against it. I can't fight her. I can't. I love her too much, even if it's only a shade, and Boukyaku knows that."  
"I know," Xian Lin responded, "That's how he fights. He knows your weaknesses, he'll use them against you. Just don't give in to them."  
"I'm going to kill that bastard for this," Ranma swore as the rage began to build in him.   
"I'll be right beside you the entire time. I'll make sure this doesn't happen again." The look Ranma gave her was full of gratitude. On impulse she pulled him against her and hugged him tightly. "I promise we'll defeat Boukyaku. I'll think of something. There is no way I'm letting that thing win."   
Ranma was shocked by the vehemence in her words, the warm comfort of her arms. Feeling like he was betraying Akane, he returned the embrace, finding comfort in his companion's presence. After a few moments though, he sheepishly pushed Xian Lin away.   
"Sorry," he said, "I-I.." He dropped his eyes. Xian Lin nodded in understanding and then helped him to his feet.   
"We've gotta get going," she said, attempting to brush aside the awkward moment. Trying to hide the slight blush that was blooming on her cheeks, she prodded Ranma onward to their destination. If Ranma noticed it though, he didn't mention it.   
  
In a daze, Shampoo scrubbed the dishes in the hot, soapy water. Tonight was the thirteenth night. Tomorrow Ranma would die if Akane and Saotome Genma did not relent. She hated this. Her great-grand- mother was not going to allow her intended husband to live if he was not given. "Stupid, Amazon pride," Shampoo muttered angrily. Didn't her great-grandmother see that no one won if Ranma died?   
Angrily, Shampoo grabbed another dish and shoved it violently into the water, causing the water to splash over the edge of the sink and onto the floor. Cursing in Chinese since she would have to clean up the new mess, Shampoo scrubbed the dish until it sparkled.  
She felt so helpless an guilty about the entire situation. Cologne had refused her pleas to release Ranma. Even arguing the law with her great-grandmother had been as effective as talking to a statue. She just did not realize the danger of what she was doing. Ranma was not an Amazon. The Law dictated that one not of the Amazon tribe was killed for disobedience or an insult to the tribe. The Judgment of Boukyaku was the ultimate punishment for anyone in the tribe.   
If I hadn't followed Ranma into that theater, if I'd just listened to him for once, none of this would have happened. If Ranma had married her in the first place, none of this would have happened. Whose fault was it? She was the one who had not been able to fulfill the Kiss of Death. She was the one who had lost to an outsider. She was the one who had returned without a husband, only to be punished by Cologne, to have her great-grandmother come to Japan and begin her relentless quest to attain Ranma as Shampoo's bride.  
Whose fault was it? Was it Ranma's for eating the winner's banquet in the first place and then contemptuously defeating her, Shampoo, one of the best warriors in the tribe. That had forced Shampoo to give the than girl Ranma the Kiss of Death.   
Whose fault was it? Did it even really matter. Assigning blame was not going to give her back her husband if he died. Death was perma- nent. She did not want to lose her Airen. But what could she do?  
Placing the last dish out to dry, she leaned against the counter, ignoring the water and soap slowly permeating her clothing. She wanted someone to talk to, but Mousse had been ordered back to China by Cologne, and even if her were here, talking to him would not help her. She knew he would take it as a sign of affection toward him, something she did not feel, but who else was there?  
It was useless she finally decided, pushing herself off the counter. She was a spectator in this game and could not even shout instructions at the players. Resigning herself to whatever fate was decided, Sham- poo began to leave the kitchen when she heard the front door open, the chimes ringing softly to announce the arrival of a customer.  
"Who stupid enough to come in restaurant when closed?" Shampoo muttered under her breath.   
She was halted as the new comer began to speak. "Cologne?" Curious, Shampoo moved to the divider between the kitchen and dining area. The voice sounded familiar, but there was something wrong with it. She couldn't quite place it.  
"What do you need Tendou Akane?" Cologne asked. This surprised Shampoo. She had not heard her great-grandmother come down the stairs since she had cleaned the dining area. Using all of her skills to remain silent, she slipped to the divider and peered into the dining room.  
The violent tomboy that had ensnared her Husband was standing submissively at the door, her head and shoulders bowed. Her great- grandmother was seated at a table in the middle of the room, her pipe clenched between her teeth, her small form bundled in a warm wrap.  
"I want you to release Ranma. He doesn't deserve this," Akane said raising her head to face Cologne. Shampoo was shocked by the grief- ravaged face she saw. It looked like Akane had been crying for hours, maybe even longer. Her eyes were puffy and red, her skin pale as the moon. For an instant Shampoo felt sorry for her rival, but Cologne's voice crushed the pity.  
"Son-in-law deserves everything he has been given," Cologne stated.  
"No he doesn't!" Akane shouted in rage, "No one deserves this. No one deserves to die, especially Ranma."  
"And why is he so special?" Cologne asked mockingly, "He is only another man. There are billions of men on this world. Surely the loss of one is not so significant." Shampoo was shocked. She knew her great- grandmother was hard, but deliberate cruelty was not a facet of the venerable Matriarch that Shampoo had ever seen.  
"There might be billions of men, but there is only one Saotome Ranma," Akane shot back as she took a step toward her adversary, "What is so wrong with him trying to choose his own life? Is it that wrong for him to want to have a choice?"  
"The foolish boy has no choice. He defeated my great-grand- daughter. He either must marry her, or he will die. That is Amazon Law child."  
"There is no other way?" Akane asked hopefully.  
"None," Cologne stated happily.  
"Despite what you think, Ranma does not deserve to die," Akane said quietly. Her voice barely reached Shampoo. "I-I renounce all claims on him. He can marry Sh-Sham..your great granddaughter."  
Cologne chuckled, "I knew you would give in child. Bring him to Toufu-sensei's clinic tomorrow before midnight. If son-in-law's father agrees, I will revive him."  
"He'll agree," Akane promised silently. Shampoo watched as Akane slowly turned and walked from the Nekohaten. As soon as the door closed, Shampoo rushed into the dinning area.  
"Aieee!" she cried, "Shampoo so happy. Soon will be married. Violent girl and spatula girl never had a chance. Thank you Great- grandmother. Shampoo so happy. Shampoo finally get what Shampoo deserve."  
"Yes, great-granddaughter. You will get what you deserve." Sham- poo did not see the wicked gleam in Cologne's eye. She was too happy that her husband would not die. Everything in the world was wonderful as far as she was concerned.  
  
The trek lost the air of confidence and ease with which it had started. Each moment was a torturous hell for Ranma. Boukyaku had mercilessly thrown illusions of Akane, his friends, and his loved ones at him, yet the creature did not do it en mass. Instead many of the original spectacles would confront Ranma, and then when he was least expecting it, the true horrors stepped out.  
Each encounter was worse than the last. Many times Xian Lin had to physically restrain him so as not to lose him. He saw Akane bent double over a katana jabbed through her abdomen. He saw Ukyou crying over his picture as she slowly sliced her wrists. His mother wandering lost, crying out for him to return. Akane walking only to have a pit open up underneath her. She screamed for help as she clutched at the edge, ever so slowly losing her grip and then plummet- ing to her death. Ryouga saved Akane from a fire and then taunted Ranma as he kissed her and led her away to a secluded grove, his hands already flowing over her body.  
Finally Ranma just clutched at Xian Lin's hand and squeezed his eyes shut, willing the torture to end, as tears slid down his cheeks. Even this did not end the torment. He heard his friend's screams, their taunts, their pleas.   
With each step the torment increased, with each step the rage and hatred crescendoed within his heart. He could feel the energy of his ki pulsing over his body radiating outward into the blasted landscape. I'll kill that bastard. He took a step. Crumble this prison around its head. Another step. I will not let that thing win! One more step...  
"So you've finally arrived," a deep voice rumbled around them. Ranma opened his eyes to see what kind of place Boukyaku resided in. There were no surprises for Ranma.  
Xian Lin and himself stood at the edge of a bowl shaped depression. The center was a seething lake of molten lava contained by a shore of jagged peaks of ice. In the center a pillar of flame rose towards the heavens, to rip through the chaotic sky, forcing it to swirl upward with it into darkness.   
Ranma took a step forward, poising himself to leap downwards into Boukyaku's personal hell. It was time to end this. "Ranma." He felt Xian Lin's hand gently restrain him. "That is exactly what Boukyaku wants. He wants you to enter his world. You'll be destroyed there. Remember our plan. We want to choose the ground. He will come to us."  
Ranma nodded and stepped back from the edge of the valley. "Afraid to face me boy," Boukyaku cackled, "There is no way to win against me. You are nothing compared to me, Saotome. I will destroy your soul. Your body will be mine, and then I will devour your world piece by piece. I will enjoy tormenting your Akane. She will die slowly, to commemorate our efforts."  
"Bastard, I'll never allow you out of this prison," Ranma seethed, taking a step forward despite Xian Lin's attempt to hold him in place, "If you're so damn sure of yourself, why don't you just come and fight me. Coward. You're nothing. Nothing. Without me you'd be trapped here for eternity. I will destroy you!"  
The derisive laugh that responded to Ranma's challenge nearly drove him over the edge. "Let him come to us. We want him in our reality, than destroy the bastard."  
"I know your plan, mortal," Boukyaku explained, its voice rumbling from the heavens, "But I care not. I'll enter your world. There are things you don't know about this place, my lovely Coward.." The world shimmered around them and a huge weight suddenly descended on Ranma as he became responsible for creating and sustaining half of the world around them.   
The hellish landscape turned to a plain grassy field with a blue sky hanging above it. In the center materialized a dark cloud, swirling in random patterns. "I thank you for taking that burden off my shoulders."   
Ranma smiled and glanced at Xian Lin. She smiled in response and nodded her head. "You can have it," Ranma said an released his hold at the same moment Xian Lin did. The world slipped back into the barren landscape that had existed at first.   
Boukyaku howled in frustration as the burden crashed into his mind. The one thing Boukyaku had forgotten was that the statue was con- nected to his own energy. When Ranma and Xian Lin released their control, it reverted to Boukyaku, slamming the demon with the strain of holding the world in place.  
Because of this, Boukyaku was now extremely vulnerable. It was the perfect moment to attack, and attack they did. "Hiryu Shoten Ha!" Ranma shouted releasing his blast at the swirling cloud. At the same time he saw a bolt of pure white flash from Xian Lin's hands. Both attacks slammed into Boukyaku's form and ripped through it like a fist through paper.   
Boukyaku screamed in rage and pain. The cloud pulsed once and the ground began to shake and crack as creatures began to drag them- selves from the earth like some horrific plants, groping toward the light of day.   
There was no turning back now Ranma realized. This was it, fight or die. He would not lose. With a cry of hatred, Ranma attacked as the demon minions began to defend Boukyaku's physical form.   
Heedless of the consequences he rushed in, his rage pushing aside his fear of failure. No matter what he would make Boukyaku pay. He would get back to Akane. He would keep his promise to Xian Lin. Instantly he was swallowed by the seething mass, Boukyaku had created. Ranma quickly discovered that they were very real and could hurt him when a claw grazed his arm. This was going to be nasty, Ranma decided, as he viciously kicked a tentacle aside, and lashed out with a ki enclosed fist that destroyed the tentacle's owner.  
  
The metallic clinking of coins dropped upon the counter, the heavy steps of the man who had been eating heralded the close of the day. It had been a horrendous day. She had only opened the restaurant at the last minute, deciding that the work would distract her, bury her worries under the constant drudgery of running her establishment. How wrong she had been. No amount of work had relieved her mind, not even dealing with the massive lunch rush despite her help not showing up. Instead the work had only become harder, more grueling and stressful as the day wore on, finally grinding to a close.  
The bell above the door jingled for a moment and then the door closed with a soft thump. Sighing in relief, Ukyou put down her spatula and briskly closed the distance between her and the door. Glancing out into the street, she saw the broad back of her last customer disappear- ing down the nearly empty, night shrouded street. She flipped the sign over to closed and slipped the lock home.   
As the bolt clicked into place, her body surrendered to the stress and emotional drain of the day, and she slumped against the door, a soft sob shaking her body as she slid to the floor. A floodgate opened within her, and all the disappointments and the sorrow of the week poured out of her. She cried for Ranchan. She cried for her unrequited love, for the emptiness within herself, for the unfairness of life. She cried and cried, her body eventually shaking silently as her voice weakened and died.   
Everyone would be at Toufu-sensei's clinic preparing to save Ran- chan, watching her Ranchan. Ironically she was here, alone in the restaurant she had built to stay near Ranchan, hiding from facing him. She wanted to be there, next to him, but if she went, if she went she would be forced to give up Ranma. Once Cologne saw her, she would be forced to make the same promise Akane was being forced to make.  
Such a promise was not possible for her. Ranma was everything to her. His was the face that she woke to, that she fell asleep to. For him she labored day and night to keep her business open while attending school. For him she waited patiently as he was pursued by the others, as Akane hit him, as he was in fight after fight, and then she was there with a smile and some food. Then every thing she endured, the lonely night, the heartache and the tears became worth it when he smiled at her, his eyes sparkling in gratitude and friendship.  
Yes friendship, it was not love, but she was willing to wait until the heavens turned to dust and the world stopped for him to say he loved her. She had no doubts that Ranchan would love her as she loved him. If he died though, if he didn't make it, if he went to Shampoo, every thing she had done would be as useless as the dirt in the street. But to give up his love forever was making her sacrifice just as worthless.  
It had all changed. In the past week all her dreams had shattered around her. It was not supposed to be like this. Ranma was supposed to take her out and kiss her, telling her he loved her. He was supposed to marry her. To be ripped from her like this, by something she could not control was not right. She did not deserve this. Ranma didn't deserve it.   
Her eyes traversed the dimly lit interior of Ucchan's. Tables and chairs were sparkling and well used. So many people had sat there and complimented her cooking, giving her a prosperous business. Ranchan had sat at that table in the corner or at the counter while they chatted about nothing.   
This place held so many memories for her, even for such a short time. Could she let the last one be herself cowering in the dark like some small child. If she stayed, she knew the regrets would live with her forever. All the joy-filled moments would become dust covered photograph albums, while she wasted away, bitter and broken.   
Her hand touched the lock bolt and she stopped. She had not even realized she had stood, her heart making and unconscious decision for her. No matter what Ranma was more important to her than anything else. She had to be there for him. If she wasn't it meant that she did not care, that it was always about her and not about him. But it was about him. He was her Ranchan. His happiness was all that mattered. His life was more important than her own.  
The bolt slid loose, and the knob turned. Ranma needed her more than she needed him. Why was she still here when he was in trouble? The door opened and she stepped into the cool night air. If he dies? She shook her head angrily. Ranchan wold not die. Her steps became quicker as she moved down the street. But what if? And I'm not there? She was running now, sprinting down the street as she made her way to Toufu-sensei's.   
  
The waiting room in Toufu-sensei's clinic had been cleared of extra chairs and a bed had been placed in the center of the room. Ranma- onna lay on the bed, the statue of Boukyaku held tightly in her hand. Ironically, being the person in the most danger, it was around Ranma- onna that the room seemed most calm. The sheets covering the bed were pristine. Her face was calm and composed, betraying none of peril she was facing.  
Around Ranma were the people that loved her. They were arrayed in a small circle each sitting silently in a chair watching the bed in the center, waiting for Cologne to make her appearance. On each face was a reflection of often hidden emotions. Tendou Soun was crying softly, sad for the loss his daughter was suffering, regretting the fact that his and the Saotome's schools would never be joined.  
Nabiki was distracted, her eyes wandering from one artwork that hung on Toufu-sensei's walls to the next. She tried to look everywhere but at Ranma or her sister. Living with someone for a year and half formed a connection with that person. It was simple human nature. Even two people who hated each other and avoided each other in the same house would find a sort of strange comfort in their relationship after a time.  
Nabiki did not hate Ranma. On the contrary, she was rather fond of him, much like an older sister was to a troublesome brother. Of course, if she admitted this to anyone, they would stare at her as if she were crazy, the unspoken question, "Don't you just take money from him and sell him out to everyone with an interest in him?" gleaming in their eyes.   
Sadly she had to answer yes to this, but she had to do it because her family needed the money. In a way it was her form of teasing Ranma. If she had not liked Ranma, she would be charging exorbitant prices for her help. Since she liked him, and she knew he had very little money, she only charged him as much as he could afford, and even then just enough to cover for his and his father's room and board.   
She knew it was a strange form of love, but then weren't Akane's and Ranma's feelings expressed in a similar way? It was just a part of being a member of the Tendou family.   
Anyone who looked into the family saw a very supportive and lov- ing family on the exterior. Once in that family though, the peculiarities became obvious. A loving and contemplative father became an unstable man ruled by emotion. A beautiful girl passing her twentieth year caring for the family, giving up her life so her younger sisters might make it somewhere. A young girl caught up in martial arts as her only outlet. Hopelessly violent and unable to deal with her emotions, she was the most sensitive of the daughters. And Nabiki. She knew she was cold and mercenary, but what else could she be? The family needed money. She needed something to keep her going.   
Ranma had thrown a wrench into that life, disrupting their comfort and throwing them into chaos. Her father suddenly had a purpose, a ray of hope in darkening prospects. Kasumi was given more work to do, dealing with the obvious problems that Ranma caused. The emotional disruption in Akane, the sorrow of Ranma and the complications of his curse. He had changed them, forcing them to face themselves.  
The Tendou sisters had always been close, but in a way that was distant and was never shown. They loved each other dearly and would do anything for the other, but they did not know how to express that. Ranma had become a sounding board. Through him they had started to see the problems within the family, the tension that was slowly tearing them apart. He amplified their quirks and faults just by his presence, and somehow brought out the better qualities they had always kept hidden.   
More than that it would just not be right without him in the house- hold. Along with him he had brought excitement and profitability, but more than anything else he seemed to have brought the family together.   
Now, with him leaving, Nabiki already could see the family starting to fray. Father was becoming more distracted by Akane's grief. Kasumi no longer held her smile at all times. She did in front of the family, offering them that harmony and stability that they needed, but Nabiki saw her oneechan sometimes stop outside of Ranma's door and brush away a few tears. Even now, she was not smiling as she sat next to Akane, trying to comfort their younger sister.  
Akane was the worst. When she had returned from her walk, she had been a fright. Puffy eyes and tear-streaked cheeks giving testament to the fact that she had spent most of the night crying. She had spoken only a few moments when she had returned, informing the family that she had accepted Cologne's offer and that they needed to have Ranma at Toufu-sensei's clinic before midnight of this day.  
From there she had disappeared upstairs. Worried Nabiki had followed her while Kasumi had comforted their father. She had found her sister in Ranma's room, sitting beside her bed, holding her free hand. She had not even turned as she had entered, instead Akane had simply spoken. "Please, I want to be alone." Nabiki had unobtrusively disappeared out of the room, leaving her sister alone, respecting her privacy. She had gone back later to check on her, only to find Akane curled against Ranma, fast asleep.  
Now she was simply silent, only speaking when spoken to. She went through the motions of the living, but something had died within her when she gave up Ranma. Nabiki knew Akane was expecting the worst. She seemed to blindly accept that Ranma would lay down to their wishes. Nabiki doubted it would be that easy.   
She prided herself on being a good judge of character, and if nothing else Ranma was loyal and very stubborn. He would do what he wanted in the end, but there was always the chance he would follow his bloody honor, and that small chance had seized Akane and refused to portion her out any hope.   
Silently, Nabiki promised that she would find a way to keep Ranma here with them. The family needed him more than Shampoo or the bloody Amazon's ever would. Besides this was not an honorable way to gain a promise. Cologne was threatening life to break a solemn promise. It was low and underhanded, something even she was not likely to do. Extort, bribe, bet, blackmail, and lie, yes, but she would never force someone's honor like this.   
There were always loopholes, however, and Nabiki would find one, at least for her sister's sake. Besides, she always could use the extra money Ranma generated. She was willing to admit she wanted Ranma around because she liked him, but her mercenary nature forced her to have a tangible reason for keeping him to compliment the emotional one. That way she could keep up the illusion she had created that kept her from getting hurt.  
Her thoughts were broken as the front door opened and Saotome Genma entered the clinic. 'Uncle' Genma was for once not a panda. As he entered his eyes flashed over everything in the room, marking positions and distances like a trained fighter. Finally his eyes rested on his son and stayed there as he walked into the room and took a chair in the corner.  
Out of the corner of her eye, Nabiki saw Akane glance toward Saotome-san. Indecision crossed her sister's face and then disappeared like a fleeting shadow. Gently she removed Kasumi's hand from her own and stood up. With determined steps, she crossed the room and stopped directly in front of Saotome-san, forcing him to look at her.  
She asked him a question. He shook his head. Curious, Nabiki leaned forward trying to catch the conversation, but they were keeping their voices low. She had an idea about what they were arguing about. This was confirmed when Akane pointed at Ranma and said something. Saotome-san flinched and dropped his head, shaking it once again.  
Akane started to turn away and then reconsidered. She turned back and sank to her knees in front of Saotome-san and spoke for a few minutes, gesturing every so often. Saotome-san listened. It was obvious Akane was not going to give up without fighting, and he obviously realized this. Finally Saotome-san nodded his head once in acceptance.  
Nabiki watched as Akane stood and returned to her seat, her face calmer than before. As she passed the table, she lightly touched Ranma- onna's cheek, a small, wistful smile lighting her face. Returning to her seat, Akane sank back into the chair in relief, her face once again becoming an unreadable mask as she watched Ranma. Kasumi gave Nabiki an encouraging smile when she noticed Nabiki watching. Nabiki smiled back but was unable to say anything as the door opened admitting Cologne and Shampoo.  
The room was immediately crackling with suppressed tension. Everyone who was occupying the room had a reason to hate the old woman, and at least a good reason to dislike the purple-haired bundle of Chinese hormones that was gaily smiling next to the withered, old crone.   
Both seemed oblivious to the mood in the room. Cologne assuredly did not care that these people were suffering. Nabiki could tell that Shampoo was lost in some alternate reality, happily planning her wedding to Ranma. It sickened Nabiki. For the first time in her life she wanted to do something for no motive other than petty revenge. She wanted to ruin them, humiliate them, force them to come begging to her for mercy while on their knees.  
Genma was glaring at the newcomers, ripping the two limb from limb with his eyes. Akane was glowing slightly with repressed anger. Kasumi pointedly ignored the two, going so far as to look the other way when they entered. This was more of an insult than any of the others combined. Discourtesy on the part of Kasumi was tantamount to slapping someone in the face after kicking his aging mother out of her own house because the minute egg had been cooked an extra ten seconds.  
Nabiki settled for a smug expression of superiority. There was no way she was going to give these two the impression that they had unhinged her calm and orderly world.   
  
Ukyou's steps slowed as she approached the clinic and finally stopped when she was a few buildings from her destination. It was late, probably close to midnight, but it was hard to tell. The lights from Tokyo were obscuring the sky, reflecting from the sparse clouds and blocking out any hope of seeing the stars. Only the deserted state of the street and the slowly gathering chill told her it was getting later.  
Rubbing her arms for warmth, she took a step toward the clinic and then stopped as she saw two figures approaching from the other direc- tion. Instinctively she crouched against a nearby stone wall and watched.  
There was a small figure hopping on a stick and another with long hair and a luxuriant figure. Ukyou was able to make a good guess as to their identity. This guess was proven correct as the two entered the cone of light thrown by a street lamp.   
Shampoo, her head bowed in silence, was walking a step behind her great-grandmother. Cologne seemed unaware of this and hopped steadily along until she came to Toufu-sensei's front door. Without a pause the withered goon proceeded up to the door and waited while Shampoo caught up and opened the door for them both.   
As the door closed, Ukyou found her feet and moved to the side of the clinic where she down against the wall. She was not sure if she wanted to go inside. Not with Cologne there. She did not want to make any promise, but she needed to see Ranma.  
"So I see almost every one has gathered," Cologne cooed, "But where is the good doctor?" The voice reached Ukyou's ears, startling her. Glancing upwards she saw an open window. Smiling since her dilemma had been solved, Ukyou got on her knees and looked into the clinic's waiting room. She could watch Ranma, be there for him, but not be seen.  
Her positioning was pure luck and very fortunate. The entire family was circled around Ranma's bed, their backs facing toward her. Cologne was watching Ranma, and Shampoo was beside her, both of them sideways to her own position.  
"I'm here, Cologne," Toufu-sensei replied. Ukyou flicked her eye to see Toufu exit from the back hall, a calm expression on his face.  
"Thank you, I need a witness for this. Are you willing?" Cologne asked. Toufu nodded his head in acceptance. "Now there are only the small matters of the conditions I made."  
"I already promised," Akane explained in a small voice. Ukyou couldn't see her face, but the pain in the answer was evident. Pity for Akane welled up within Ukyou. Akane had not had a choice in this. Everything had always rested on her decision.   
Shame for the way she had treated Akane closely followed the pity. The reality of the situation had never really asserted itself on her. Sure Akane had told her Ranma had died. That had shook her confidence, but it was hard to believe that anything could hurt Ranma. So she had just accepted that they would find a cure. When Akane had returned from finding Ouchi-sensei, the look on her face the set of her body had rammed the entire situation home. Ranma was in serious trouble.   
At that moment she had understood why Akane had been so close to Ranma, why she was acting like she had been. She had only been trying to fix him in her memory, trying to give herself something lasting. If she had only known she would have done the same.  
"Ah, but Saotome-san has not, and I want you to give son-in-law up in front of everyone," Cologne explained, shocking Ukyou back into reality. She saw the withered old ghoul turn and bore her eyes into Akane and then Genma.  
"Are you saying my daughter is not honorable?" Soun asked in a threatening voice, "That she will not keep her word?"  
"Did I say that?" Cologne asked avoiding the question, "But as I think about it, I want your word that engagement between son-in-law and your daughter is broken. Do I have it?"  
"That wasn't part of the bargain," Nabiki challenged. The anger and rage were pulsing in Nabiki's voice. Ukyou did not blame her. Cologne was deliberately provoking them. "You've already got enough. Akane has agreed. Saotome-san is going to agree, there is no need for this. Besides, a deal cannot be changed once made unless both parties accept."  
"Do you have a choice, Nabiki?" Cologne snapped, "I hold the cards. If I want Ranma to die he dies. I will save him only if I get what I want! Do you understand that?" Nabiki could only nod in acceptance, unable to argue with Cologne's unassailable position.  
"You are pushing, Cologne," Toufu-sensei said, "Honor only goes so far, and the insults you are throwing about so lightly could beget a blood-feud you would not want."  
"*Japanese honor is weak. You are nothing compared to the Amazon tribe. I will show you,*" Cologne stated in Mandarin. Ukyou tried to understand what she was saying, but her Chinese was minimal, only reflecting enough to relate to customers.  
"*Be careful what you say,*" Toufu-sensei answered in impeccable Mandarin, surprising Ukyou greatly, but then Toufu-sensei was a learned man, "*Your language is not hard to learn, and I will tolerate only so much of your insolence. As a martial artist, Ranma would rather die than see this travesty go through. You are traversing thin ice, Matriarch of the Amazons. Ask for the promises, nothing else. No more games. I will not allow this family to suffer any more.*"  
Ukyou watched as a satisfied rumble ran though the assembled family as Cologne glared at Toufu-sensei after he spoke to her. It meant that Toufu had gotten under her skin, which please Ukyou as well.   
Cologne nodded at Toufu-sensei before turning back to the group, smiling. For some reason that smiled reminded Ukyou of a cat she had once seen stalking a wounded bird. The same malicious joy was in the ghoul's eyes as had gleamed within the cat's. "Saotome Genma," Cologne intoned, turning to facing Ranma's father, "Do you annul the engagement between your son Saotome Ranma and Tendou Akane? Do you pledge that your son, Saotome Ranma, will marry my great- great-great-granddaughter, Shampoo? Do you annul all other engage- ments you have made for your son, Saotome Ranma? Do you swear this by the honor of your family name?"   
Ukyou gasped at the strength of the oath Cologne was asking. To ask on personal honour was generally strong enough, but to bring family honor into the picture. Not only was Cologne implying that she did not trust the individual honor of each and every person present, she was implying that Ranma was not honorable enough to hold up the honor of his own father.  
"I do," Genma said after a moment, "I swear by the honor of my family that all that you ask shall be done." After he spoke his head sank to his chest in defeat. For the first time, Ukyou felt sorry for the old man who had caused her so much grief. She saw Saotome Genma's age reflected in his face and body. He appeared as a withered old man, who had just surrendered for the last time.  
Cologne nodded as Shampoo eagerly clasped and unclasped her hands. Cologne turned to Tendou Soun. "Tendou Soun. Do you annul the engagement between Saotome Ranma and Tendou Akane? Do you give up any claim to Saotome Ranma carrying on your dojo? Do you swear this on your family honor?"  
"I swear it," Tendou Soun answered in a tearful voice. Cologne nodded in response as Soun began crying in earnest, grieving for the loss of his dream.  
"Tendou Akane," Cologne began, but she never finished as Akane interrupted her.  
"I swear anything you ask,. I give up Ranma. He is no longer mine. Just stop wasting time, stop tormenting us. Save Ranma," Akane demanded, her voice near to breaking from grief and anger, "And if you don't," Akane whispered. Ukyou barely caught this, and Akane was only sitting a few feet from her window. "If Ranma dies, I will spend my life finding a way to destroy you. This I swear on my family honor." Ukyou saw that Cologne did not hear this last part, for she only nodded and began to pull objects from her robes and set them on the floor in a pattern Ukyou could not discern.  
"It will take time to prepare for the ceremony," Cologne explained as Shampoo found a chair and sat down, "I will be finished when the moon rises, and then we will begin."  
Shaking with fear Ukyou slipped back down the wall and hugged her knees to her chest. There was something wrong here, but she could not figure it out. Ranchan was going to have the hardest night of his life. Ukyou knew this as certainly as she knew the sun would rise in the morning.  
  
The image formed in her mind and was quickly merged with her ki. A moment later an arc of shimmering energy swept outward from her hands to slash through the ethereal form of Boukyaku, leaving a swath of darkness missing. With a shriek of rage, Boukyaku formed a shield around his form, retreating to heal once again.  
Letting out a breath of air in relief, Xian Lin turned to help Ranma, but decided against it as she watched him fight amongst Boukyaku's creations. They had split up the fight early. She was concentrating on Boukyaku's physical form, since she was more efficient with her ki attacks.  
Ranma had taken the burden of defending her from the minions Boukyaku disgorged from the ground. His strength in this prison made the job a simple one, only the number of demons hindering him.   
Xian Lin watched in awe as he moved through the converging beasts, his red shirt the only splash of colour among the seething mass of black. He flowed through them like a stick into water, sliding past demons in a fluid dance of death that left mangled and still forms in his wake.  
There was no pause in his form. One attack led to another and then another. Styles changed in mid step. From power to precision and grace. One moment he was a charging bull bringing down a massive beast, only to switch in the next instant to a lithe reed that slipped between the smaller opponents, lashing out quickly and efficiently to remove the threat.  
It was not fighting, it was an art form. The heightened connection Ranma had gained with his spirit had created a masterful fighter in this hellish prison. He used small amounts of ki to augment his attacks, allowing him to remove opponents with one strike in most cases. Enthralled, Xian Lin watched him slip beneath an outstretched arm, striking upwards as he swept the feet of another beast on his side. The first fell, it jaw smashed into it brainpan. The other died as Ranma's foot crunched down on the exposed neck when he vaulted off the fallen beast to leap toward a massive worm-like creature.   
Xian Lin saw a brief flash of ki as Ranma descended. She recogniz- ed it instantly. It was his failed attempt at diverting a ki attack. He had changed it into an extension of his arm, his perfect reflexes allowing him to strike and release the blast in perfect conjunction. The worm split open, the black mist that composed its form dissipating into the air.  
As he landed, Ranma pivoted and lashed out with several kicks that were a blur to even Xian Lin's trained eye. One, two, three creatures fell, and then Ranma completed the circle, coming to rest on the balls of his feet. So caught up in Ranma's movements, it took a moment for Xian Lin to realize that the last of Boukyaku's latest wave had been defeated.   
Ranma relaxed slightly and turned toward her. He nodded his head and made his way to her side, as the creatures he had defeated dissolved back into the earth.   
"That one was shorter than the others," Ranma observed as he neared her, "I think we're starting to exhaust Boukyaku's strength."  
"He was not ready to fight us," Xian Lin explained, as she watched Boukyaku for signs of reentering the fight, "I told you that the four- teenth night has not yet started. Once it does, Boukyaku will gain his full strength, and then we will be in trouble."  
"How's that?" Ranma asked, "We seem to be holding our own, if not getting the better of the situation. Those creatures he's creating are like fighting practice dummies."  
"That's because they are extensions of his power. One on one they are no match for you, and Boukyaku does not have the skill to counter your martial arts and deal with me also. He might be powerful, but he is still limited in how he thinks. That will end when the new moon rises. The statue will start augmenting his power than. We will be in serious trouble. I don't know if we'll be able to defeat him than."  
"But you said we'd have a chance," Ranma exclaimed, "Now you're saying we have no chance?"  
"No, we can still win," Xian Lin shouted. She had to tell him the truth, but she didn't know how to make it sound encouraging, "If anyone breaks the curse, we'll be fine. We can hold out for the entire night. If we do not find a way out by the time the new moon sets, then we'll lose for sure. It just becomes harder at this point. We've just gotta hope that someone will break the Judgement."  
Ranma glanced at her uncertainly. Xian Lin could feel that he thought she had betrayed him, and it hurt her. "Don't turn away from me, Ranma," she pleaded, "We will lose if we don't work together. I don't intend to let Boukyaku have you or me. Trust me."  
Nodding Ranma turned to watch the encased form of Boukyaku. It would only be a little while before he began to fight again. Boukyaku healed faster than Happousai could steal panties. "I'm not giving up. Not now, not ever. We'll finish this, Xian Lin. One way or another it ends." He fell silent for a second before turning back to face her. "I trust you. I have no reason not to."  
Xian Lin smiled as she drank in his faith and acceptance of her. Then the world around them began to tremble, the air shimmering.  
"What's happening?" Ranma exclaimed in surprise.   
"The moon must be rising," Xian Lin shouted back as the air filled with a thunderous rumble, deafening to the two companions. Their ears pulsed in pain as the noise became unbearable. Then everything went silent, painful, eerily silent.   
The air ceased shimmering and became a dull red color. Ranma and Xian Lin found themselves standing on a flat, featureless plain of black marble that extended as far as the eyes could see. In front of them Boukyaku was a vaguely man-shaped form, the chaotically swirling darkness of his previous form shaping the body. "Now you are mine!" he proclaimed triumphantly.  
The ground exploded around them, disgorging hundreds of his demon minions. In an instant the tide of the battle had turned and Xian Lin and Ranma were fighting for their lives as Boukyaku chuckled in amusement.  
  
Cologne finished her preparations. All of the ingredients and objects needed for the breaking of the Judgement were spread out before her in the correct design. Everything would go fine. That is it would go fine if she hadn't switched one of the key ingredients, a herb that when ingested opened the body and mind to the energy of the world, but when mixed with the other objects blocked the power of Boukyaku, preventing him from attacking the victim. Instead of the herb, a powder of wolfsbane and ginger was held in the container that had once held the herb. Toufu would never notice the difference since wolfsbane and ginger had established niches in mythological medicine.  
A triumphant surge of emotion blossomed from the statue as the moon rose unseen in the sky. This signaled the start of her doctored ceremony. Cologne began speaking in the ancient tongue of the Amazon tribe. The words were the same as she had been taught to use to break the Judgement. She reached for the first object and began the purification ritual. That doctor would be sorry for insulting her, the whole family would suffer, particularly Ranma.  
  
Toufu watched as Cologne began her ceremony. More than anything he was curious about how the Amazon Matriarch was going to break the Judgement. He hoped to gain some knowledge from her that might help him with many of his patients. Besides she wanted to make sure that he was able to help anyone else who was Judged by the Amazon tribe.   
He could not understand the language. It was not exactly Chinese, but it was close to it. The forms and inflections were different though, so he could not follow it. He could follow the ritual though. Fascinated he watched her prepare a mixture of water and mustard seed. He used the same mixture hot to relieve congestion, but this was cold and she added a powder that caused the mixture to foam. This she took to Ranma's bedside. Dipping her fingers in the paste she drew a complex series of patterns across Ranma's brow and right arm. Then she took a piece of red ochre and spiraled the patterns together, connecting the statue, third eyes and heart. The remainder of the mixture was poured over the stature, hissing violently as it dissipated upon touching the statue.   
From this point she returned to her original position and replaced the bowl and red ochre exactly in their original positions before she started on the next step of the complex ritual.  
  
"Hiryu Shoten Ha!" Ranma shouted. The whirlwind flew from his hands to decimate the massed minions in front of him only to end abruptly and satisfyingly by slamming into Boukyaku, disrupting the swirling chaos of the demon's body.  
The attack halted Boukyaku for a moment as he repaired the damage Ranma had caused. On top of this the minions had been thinned to the point where Ranma could actually rest for a moment. Unfortunately, Ranma needed more than a moment of rest. His resources had been drawn to the limit by this battle. There was no lull in the combat, just a steady wavering of the intensity. The only reason they were not being overwhelmed was the weakness of Boukyaku's demonic creations and the fact that the spirit was unable to adapt to the strategies Ranma and Xian Lin were inventing as they fought.  
At this moment they had reverted to their original tactics. He was holding the limitless minions as Xian Lin concentrated on Boukyaku. The fact that his attack had struck the bastard was just an added bonus. In most cases he was charged with keeping the demons from Xian Lin.   
He glanced over at her. She was standing behind him like a burning angel of vengeance. Her white aura gleamed in the reddish haze of the world like a lighthouse on a stormy night. With an imperceptible mo- tion, Xian Lin cast several arcs of ki that streaked toward Boukyaku, crashing into his body with a crackle of power.  
Screaming in rage, Boukyaku gestured toward Xian Lin. A black cloud enveloped her, crushing downward oh her form. With a cry, Ranma raced to her aid. His headlong run was halted as the black sphere began to crack, white light leaking into the sky. The blackness closed in once more and then exploded outward.   
Xian Lin was kneeling on the ground, breathing heavily. Ranma started to go to her when he saw the ground erupt behind her, dis- gorging several massive demons. Shouting a warning, Ranma darted forward, laughing himself into the air.  
Descending quickly he rotated to aim himself directly at the fore- most creature, a massive brute that shambled forward, its four arms waving rapidly in front of it. The thing never had a chance. Ranma was on top of it before it realized it was in danger. Striking out, Ranma spoke at the last moment before he struck, "Touch of the Blade." A blade of ki instantly appeared in his hand, slashing through the creature's neck and shoulder before disappearing into nothingness. Ranma could not hold the weapon in place and seriously doubted that it could be done. Each brief attack was tiring enough.   
The severed head fell with Ranma, landing next to him, and rolling in front of him. It shimmered for a moment and then Ranma was starring at Akane's severed head, her mouth agape in a silent scream, her eyes starring horrified at him. Screaming he backed away from the hideous sight.  
There was an evil chuckle echoing in his mind. Glancing away from the disgusting sight, Ranma found himself confronting Akane and Ukyou. Each was approaching him, swinging either mallet or spatula. Involuntarily he stepped backward. He could not fight them. His heart would not let him.   
"They're not real," he told himself, "You're not hurting them."  
"Ranma no baka!" He barely dodged the mallet as it descended toward his head. Leaping backward, he regained his position and warily watched the two approach him. They're not real, not real.  
With a cry they charged him. Ranma ducked the blows easily, slid- ing in between the two. He could not keep this up forever though. He leaped to avoid Ukyou's spatula and then twisted in midair to avoid the descent of the mallet. His hand touched the ground and he cartwheeled into a defensive stance.  
Akane and Ukyou pressed in on him, forcing him to dodge more blows. The more he dodged the faster they became, their attacks blurs to any but his eye. After a few moments their offensive overwhelmed him. He dodged Akane's mallet only to be swiped in the side by a spatula. Stumbling from the blow, he tried to dodge Akane's back swing but was clipped in the shoulder. He was sent flying by the blow to land a dozen feet away.  
Grunting in pain, he pushed himself off the ground as the two rushed at him. He knew he could not win this unless he attacked, but even if they were shades, they appeared to be his beloved and his best friend. "They're only illusions. The are not real," he repeated to himself." Closing his eyes, he met them head on his hand flashing outward. He pulled the punch on instinct but still felt soft flesh and the cracking of bones. Akane's scream of pain filled his ears.   
It almost halted him, but he forced himself to continue. Tears sting- ing his cheeks, he lashed out in the direction of the scream. His knife- hand connected with a crunch, and Akane's voice was silenced by a gurgling cry. Opening his eyes, he pivoted, lashing out backwards. His foot connected with Ukyou's midsection. Behind him the gurgling cry ended as Akane's body slumped to the ground with an audible thud.  
No time for that now. Concentrate. Its just Boukyaku. Only illusions. He spun, his leg whipping around to catch Ukyou on the side of the head. There was a snap as her head was wrenched to the side, her neck broken.   
Ranma stood silently, his eyes riveted to the two creatures he had just killed. They still looked like his friends. They had sounded like his friends, and even felt like them to his extended senses. Boukyaku had done this, perverted his own loved ones. Forced him to do the one thing he never would.  
Turning he looked past, Xian Lin's glowing form. If she had noticed what he had done, she did not show it, but he knew she could hear his thoughts. In a moment she would know what he was thinking.   
Beyond her Boukyaku rose over the landscape, a black mass of swirling clouds and vapor. Slits of red approximated eyes and a mouth. As his eyes found Boukyaku, the demon turned to stare at him, a gleeful gloating filling Ranma's mind.  
Anger flared within Ranma. This was going too far. It was obvious they were going to lose. Boukyaku was too powerful, and he had noticed nothing while here that even approximated outside interference. Well he would not go easily. He would take Boukyaku with him, destroy that thing as his last breath left his body. That thing would not enter his world, would not have Akane.  
Glowing brightly with his power, Ranma launched himself forward, his feet barely touching the ground as he raced towards Boukyaku. He was past Xian Lin in an instant. He heard her cry out for him to stop as she realized what he intended.  
Nothing was going to stop him. Death was a small price for Ranma to pay. He had been prepared before to pay it before. He would have gone through with seppuku if his mother had ever found out about his curse. Now in his death, he would assure the survival of his loved ones.   
Screaming a battle cry, Ranma allowed his ki to surround him, lift him up from the ground. In a blinding flash, he streaked downward into the gloating form of Boukyaku. As he hit the world exploded, darkness surrounding him as he lashed out, striving to take Boukyaku with him, as he was dragged into oblivion.  
  
Akane watched the ceremony with unfeigned interest. It seemed Cologne was half done, at least she had gone through half of the items she had placed in front of her. She was now reaching for three more. She picked up two stones. One was a flat oval, the other a cracked chunk of some black stone. The third was a white bone that appeared to be from a human finger, although Akane was not sure.  
Lifting Ranma's hand, Cologne placed the oval stone underneath it and then placed the broken stone at the corner with the finger bone bisecting the oval from the broken stone to the opposite edge. Having done this she spoke a few words and inverted Ranma's hand, and slammed the statue downward towards the oval. It hit the bone squarely, pulverizing the fragment, swirling dust around the statue of Boukyaku.   
Suddenly Cologne cried out in pain as a blue pulse of energy burst from the statue to fill the room, flowing over everything and everyone. The blast rushed through Akane, filling her with an intoxicating taste of pure power, but as the initial rush reached its plateau within her, she felt a calm sense of purpose and surrender, a dread sense of purpose.  
"Ranma," she whispered, trying to hold onto the feeling. It was like trying to hold a breeze. It slipped through her fingers, rushing back out of her, draining into the statue once again. An aching emptiness took the place of the dizzying power that had just filled her. She saw her disappointment mirrored on every other face in the room. Except Cologne. Her face was confused, filled with fear and shock.   
Her expression struck Akane. "What's wrong?" she shouted, "What happened?" Don't let anything go wrong. Please don't.  
"I-I don't know," Cologne answered, "This has never happened before. The dust is supposed to be fused with the statue. What is Ranma doing? What is going on?" She continued talking but slipped into Chinese, making it impossible for Akane to understand. After a moment, she stopped talking and watched the statue for a moment.  
Curious, Akane followed Cologne's eyes. She briefly saw the blue covering the entire statue, and then the black was there, slowly growing more powerful, beating the blue back, beating Ranma back.  
"Just don't stare at it!" Akane shouted, "Help him. Finish the cere- mony. He's losing. Can't you see that? I made your stupid promise. Save him, dammit. Save him!"   
  
Ukyou jumped to her feet as a blue light flashed from the window. Akane's cry forced her to look into the room, pressing her face against the glass so she could see. She did not care if she was seen now. Something was going wrong, but she could see nothing out of the ordinary. Akane was yelling at Cologne and the old ghoul was shaking her head watching the statue clutched in Ranma's hand.  
Terrified, Ukyou forced her eyes to the statue. It was glowing with a blue aura. It was obviously Ranma's. At first she did not see the problem. It looked like Ranma had won, or was gaining back control of his life, but then she saw the black aura spreading like a malignant cancer across the pristine blue of Ranma's aura.   
She shook her head and mouthed the word no over and over again. He was dying, he was dying. She was about to shout at Cologne when Akane voiced her opinion. "Save him dammit!" she shouted, as Ukyou silently echoed her.  
  
Cologne showed surprise and incredulity on her face, but on the inside she was smiling in glee. The fool boy was attacking Boukyaku. Not only was he attacking, but it was obvious he was going to lose. This would make his death that much easier to explain until she told them the truth and destroyed them utterly.  
Now all she had to do was go through the ceremony and skip that one crucial part. Besides, the doctor would never be able to figure out that datura had an effect on demons. That was a secret kept by the Amazon tribe. Tonight Ranma would die, and the Amazon's would be reborn into glory and power she decided as she started on the next part of the ceremony.  
  
Akane did not watch her. She watched the statue. The black still covered less than a quarter of the statue, Ranma seemed to have slowed Boukyaku's progress, but he had not stopped it.   
It was an agonizingly slow advance. Ranma fought each step of the way, at some points even shoving the other thing backwards, regaining the lost ground, but this was not very often. As inexorable as the tide, the black spread over the statue like a fungus, until it covered nearly half.  
At this moment Cologne brought the next part of the ceremony forward, she had a feather and a small bowl of glittering dust. Dipping the feather in the dust, she brought it up with a quick jerk of her hand. A glittering cloud surrounded the statue and Ranma's hand. With quick and exact strokes, Cologne slashed a pattern in the dust, leaving glittering marks on the black statue.   
Akane leaned forward in hope as Ranma advanced against Bouk- yaku, forcing the black to retreat until it held only a quarter of the surface area. As soon as the dust had settled though, Ranma was already losing ground, faster than before. Desperate, Akane glanced at Cologne. She had picked up four of the last six items. That meant that she was almost done, three more steps at most, most likely two. Akane silently urged Cologne to hurry as she glanced back at the scene of the battle and saw Ranma tenaciously holding onto his precarious position.  
Just a little while longer, only a little while longer. Please, Ranma. Don't give up. Don't give up. As if Ranma could hear her pleas, his aura pushed into the darkness, parting it like a knife cutting silk. Then he was falling back under Boukyaku's retaliation, the blackness penetrating the blue.  
Akane cried out, but then Cologne was laying the next part of the ceremony on Ranma's breast which rose rhythmically despite the titanic struggle Ranma was embroiled in. As the intricately marked wooden bowl was placed on Ranma's breast, his aura increased in intensity, pushing against, Boukyaku. A moment later though he was falling back, losing ground quickly as Boukyaku pressed his attack   
Crying out in horror, Akane, almost rushed to Ranma's side. His blue covered only a quarter of the statue now, glowing faintly under the oppressive weight of the dark aura pressing inward on it. Then every thing changed and fell apart at once. A white light began to suffuse Ranma's blue, turning Ranma's aura into a serene blue-white. For a moment the black was pushed back, but it was not enough. Nothing seemed to be enough.  
Then Cologne was there again, lifting a bowl over the statue, she poured it over Ranma's hand and the statue. There was a flicker in the black, and it was pushed back, but then it stopped and surged forward almost triumphantly. Something had gone wrong. Something was wrong.  
"Save him. Stop this. He's not winning. The curse isn't broken."  
"I don't understand," Cologne stated, "It should've worked. I did everything right. You have to hope now, there is nothing more I can do. I've opened the way for Ranma. He must find his own way back."  
Ranma was not finding his way back though. He was losing once again, retreating slowly but surely. The additional power of the white not able to save him. He was down to a small, wan point among the black, when Ranma's body began to glow white. Light poured through the room illuminating everyone's tense face. It increased in intensity until rushing toward the statue. Ranma's position exploded outward as the white flooded around and into the statue.  
Boukyaku was shoved backwards in a rush, his position thrown from the winning side to the losing in a matter of seconds. Then the consequences of this action struck Akane as Kasumi gasped in shock, and Toufu-sensei rushed to Ranma-onna's body. Turning her face slightly, Akane saw that Ranma was no longer breathing. Just like before. He was dead. Dead. It was impossible to suppress the wail of grief that rose in her throat, to join Shampoo's own shrill scream.  
  
Xian Lin sank back onto her haunches as Ranma disappeared into Boukyaku, the blazing bolt of blue energy he had become, slamming into Boukyaku's chaotic form, imposing order upon certain parts of it.  
She knew what Ranma was doing. She had felt him building up to this moment, and had hoped he would not do it, but he had. It was a noble attempt and might work, but not with him alone. Unlike him, she realized many of the truths of his situation. He was no longer a part of his body. In actuality, she inhabited his body, keeping his body alive and functioning. At this moment and since he had entered the statue, Ranma had been spiritually dead. He had transcended the mortal plane to the one she had been cursed to inhabit, while she was given a hold on life.   
It would be so easy for her to slip back into his body and take control of it, but she would not do that. That action would open the corridor for Boukyaku and give Ranma to oblivion. She cared for him too much to even contemplate such a deplorable act. He deserved more than that, but now he was doing it to himself.  
Without her help he was doomed to failure, but she realized that it was going to cost his life to defeat Boukyaku. She did not have the strength to defeat the demon and sustain his body. At least for awhile, she could let him take the burden. She needed to rest while she could.  
Carefully she watched the battle that raged within Boukyaku, while she replenished her strength, gaining back her center and balance. Reckless and foolhardy that his move was, Ranma had the strength to give Boukyaku a challenge. She saw this in the very first instant of the attack.  
As he struck, the creature of ki Ranma had transformed himself into had dispersed Boukyaku's form, filling it with Ranma's own energy. Instead of a body of swirling black, a glowing blue sphere had taken Boukyaku's place.  
This was not destined to last. Ranma had struck quickly and powerfully, surprising Boukyaku. He had only unhinged the demon, forcing the thing to recuperate and start from the beginning. Xian Lin saw Boukyaku begin his counter. A small dot of black appeared on the sphere Ranma was controlling.   
Xian Lin heard Ranma's feelings and thoughts clearly. His anger had not left him and he instantly pounced upon Boukyaku, forcing him into a defensive position from which he would have to fight out of. Ranma attacked mercilessly, forcing Boukyaku to gain every inch of ground that he had lost,. The process was arduous and painful for Ranma. He was fighting a new type of battle, and only his determination and sheer force of will was keeping Boukyaku at bay.   
Dreams and wishes don't build houses, so is it with determination and will. Though they help, superior skill and strength will ultimately win out. This was the reason Ranma was slowly beaten back. He was too inexperienced and not as strong as Boukyaku. Then as the sphere was almost half and half , the world around them shuddered.  
Xian Lin felt the difference in Boukyaku instantly. He was distracted by a new threat from the outside, that was trying to contain him. Split by the second front, Ranma gained his opening. Xian Lin experienced his dreadful glee, as he slammed into Boukyaku with a renewed vengeance, pushing him back until he was in a less formidable position.   
This trend was not a permanent one. Xian Lin realized this instantly. Someone was trying to break the curse, but that meant that Boukyaku was going to fight harder. It was imperative that Ranma survive this fight. If they were breaking the Judgement, he would be pulled from the fight and saved; however, if he lost before help could reach him, there would be no saving him.  
As if Ranma realized this, he punched an attack deep into Bouk- yaku's position, driving a wedge of blue into the swirling chaos, Bouk- yaku was a step behind him, pushing deeply into Ranma's defense, swaying the balance once again.  
Xian Lin could feel the desperation in Ranma, the exhaustion. He was nearing his limit. Then a burst of strength flooded through him, forcing him back to the edge of the balance for a moment. Xian Lin knew that the strengthening of the spirit had been completed, there was only one more step and Ranma would be free, it simply required Ranma to hold out, but he would not be able to.  
She could feel his attacks weakening, his defenses shattering under Boukyaku's onslaught. He needed her help. Taking her feet, Xian Lin decided it was time. Embracing her ki, she moved to the sphere and touched the blue, joining her own mind with Ranma's becoming one with him in the fight against Boukyaku.  
The experience was a new one to both of them. There conscious minds were still separate, but their ki had joined to form one being, a being that could deal with Boukyaku on two levels. They fought as a team, bolstering the other's attacks and defending each other.   
Being of two minds, it was harder for Boukyaku to break though, but blocking him was still difficult. His attacks were more powerful then they could manage. They needed more strength, more power, but to gain more power she would have to release the hold on Ranma's body. He would die, but they would win.   
Hold on. Hold on. There is only one more step, then we can return. Then this will be over.   
I know. I'll hold out. He will not win.  
Slowly they retreated from Boukyaku, backing up until they thought there was no where to go, and then Boukyaku became distracted, screaming in rage.   
The final part. It must be. Now Ranma.  
They both surged forward, slamming into Boukyaku, pushing him into a major retreat that almost turned into a rout, but then he stopped and held his place, a sensation of glee filling the void they were within.   
Boukyaku lashed out, throwing his entire might against them. Xian Lin and Ranma were overwhelmed, tumbling backwards towards the point they had just left as if an avalanche carried them.  
What's wrong? I thought we had won.  
I don't know. I don't know. Something is wrong. Just fight. We can't let him have your body.  
Is there anyway to defeat him?  
Xian Lin could feel that he already knew the answer. I don't want to. There is still hope.  
No, there isn't Xian Lin. I can't let him win. Let me die. It will save the ones I love. Join with me. We must stop this menace. Trust me.  
Xian Lin knew Ranma was right. They had failed, the cure had failed to work. There was no other way to keep Boukyaku from winning. With both of them at full strength, Boukyaku would hold no chance. They could easily contain him, it was obvious. Gently she reached back to Ranma's body and freed her remaining ki from his body, allowing it to die as she gathered all the energy she had used to sustain him.   
It rushed into them like a wave of water from a shattered dam. It filled them, amplified their power to a height unknown to either of them before. For an instant they discovered what it felt like to have the power of the kami in their hands. What the held was beyond any words. It was enough to hold Boukyaku.  
With a combined cry, they used Ranma's death to the utmost and attacked Boukyaku, forcing him away from the now empty husk that had held Ranma. He would not get Ranma's body. No one would.   
  
Ukyou watched as the white light suffused Ranma's body and then rushed into the statue throwing the black aura into a disorderly retreat. She watched in horror as Ranma's chest stopped rising and falling. "No, no, no," she muttered over and over in her mind. He had to live. He had to live.   
Dimly she heard Akane's and Shampoo's cries of grief. She wanted to join them, but her mind was still denying everything that she saw, was still unable to comprehend that Ranma had died.   
Like a statue she stood rooted in place, watching Ranma's body as Toufu-sensei checked I and then ran from the room. He must live. He must. But he's not breathing. "Oh god, not Ranchan, not Ranchan."  
  
Toufu-sensei checked Ranma's vital signs. He was not dead yet, but it would not be long. His breathing was very shallow, almost impercep- tible, but his heart was still beating. It was amazing the body was still living. It meant that Ranma had left some residual ki to keep him alive, but not much. Toufu did not understand what had happened, but he knew that if some ki was not placed into Ranma's body he would never be able to return.  
He stood back from his body, trying to think of something. It was hard to think with Shampoo and Akane crying. The other's shout and grief stricken voices were not helping maters much either.   
"I told you," Cologne suddenly shouted, her voice carrying through the din to reach Toufu's ears, "I can't do anything. I opened the path for his ki to return, he just must use it. Obviously he knows it is there since he drained his ki to attack Boukyaku. Is it my fault the boy is stupid?"   
Draw ki back into the body. He had heard that before. Some herb. He knew it was something he had heard of, that he must have in the clinic somewhere. Suddenly he snapped is fingers. Datura. Datura was the answer. It would make the body receptive, open it to ki.   
Spinning he rushed from the room to his medicine room. Throwing the door open he rushed in and began to dig through the many different bottles and pouches of herbs. Finally he found what he was looking for in a bag. It was the dried leaves of datura.  
Grabbing the pouch he rushed to his clinic and turned on the hot water as he looked for a mortar and pestle. He found one and took it over next to the sink. Opening the bag he took out three leaves and then after a moments consideration took out two more. It would be very strong, almost lethal, but he needed that kind of strength to be assured of the result.  
Placing the five leaves in the small bowl he ground them to a fine powder. He poured the powdered datura into a beaker and added enough water to make it a syrupy mixture. Allowing it to steep for a few moments, he went to find a hypodermic needle and syringe.   
He found one on the opposite counter. Rushing back he filled the syringe with the datura solution. Leaving the rest next to the sink, he rushed back out into the waiting room. Everything was still in an uproar. It was split down the middle of grief and anger. Akane was slowly turning to anger, her grief burning away under her anger. Nabiki was glaring at Cologne who stood calmly, watching the battle continue around the statue. No one but Ukyou noticed him as he slipped next to Ranma.  
To his relief he found Ranma-onna was still living, although just barely. Without a second thought, he plunged the needle into Ranma's vein and injected most of the datura into his blood system.   
Stepping back he placed the syringe on the bed next to Ranma's right hand and watched Ranma closely. It should only take a few seconds, just a few seconds. Ranma's body suddenly twitched, her left hand clenching in pain, a soft moan escaping her lips. Even with the commotion, the small noise and movement halted everything. Soon everyone was watching Ranma, praying for him to make it.  
  
They were holding Boukyaku, they could hold him for the entire night. He would not win. It was obvious to them. It was obvious to him. There was an unspoken agreement between them. They were about to call the contest when the unexpected happened.   
Xian Lin and Ranma felt it first. A connection with Ranma's body opened and began to tug at them. Someone had found a way to get them back, but then they saw the danger. Boukyaku could follow with them, or simply push past them. There was no way to save themselves. If they did Boukyaku would win, but it was hard to resist their ki's natural tendency to return to its original shell.  
We can't go back. We've got to stay.  
I know. I'm sorry I can't save your life. I was hoping so much.  
It is worth it, Xian Lin.  
She couldn't do it. She could not let him throw away his life like that. He deserved a chance. She did not want him to become cursed like her. It wasn't fair to him. He had suffered so much in his life. There was still things he had to finish. Besides she cared for his friends as if they were her own. In a way they were. She had come to know them with Ranma. She shared his perceptions and memories of them. She loved them as much as he did. Therefore she did not want them to suffer.  
They all deserved more. She made her decision. It was a small sacrifice.  
Promise me you'll find a way to save me. Promise me.  
What are you doing? You're blocking me.  
Just promise. Please  
I promise Xian Lin. I'll save you, but please don't do this. Let me stay.   
No, go. She pushed herself away from him, shoving Ranma back into his body. Boukyaku screamed in rage as he realized what was happening, but Xian Lin imposed herself between him and Ranma's body. He would not get free. He would never get free.  
I promise. I swear I'll find away. That was the last she heard as Ranma left her life as quickly as he entered it. Then Boukyaku was crashing into her, trying to crush her. She refused to give him that satisfaction. She fought him, delaying him while Ranma regained his body and his senses enough to be able to close the connection between his body and the statue.  
Hurry, Ranma. I can't hold out forever. Please hurry. She blocked a vicious attack and slashed back with her own blast of energy. Hurry. Please hurry.  
  
Akane watched eagerly as Ranma's body struggled. Ranma's arms and legs were flailing slightly, as if she were trying to claw her way back into the real world. Then she was coughing, a weak sound almost like crying. As her arms lifted from the bed, trying to move, Akane saw Ranma's eyes flutter open for a second and then again a moment later. He was going to live. Relief flooded through her body, sweeping aside all of the difficulties, everything that had happened up to this point. Her Ranma had returned.  
She began to run to him. He was going to live. The nightmare was over. Ranma was coming back to her. In her delirious state, she did not see Shampoo until the Amazon knocked her aside in her own headlong rush to reach Ranma's side. Akane fell heavily to the floor, her face reflecting the shock she felt. Angrily, she prepared to rush the Amazon girl.   
"Stupid girl, remember promise," Shampoo shouted as she grabbed Ranma's left hand, "Husband no longer yours."  
Akane sank heavily to the floor as she heard this. It was true, she had given up Ranma. Cologne had saved him, or at least opened the way to save him. Rightfully she had no claim to him anymore. She wanted to cry. She wanted to shout in grief, but she would not give anyone that satisfaction. She had done what had been needed. She would not regret it. She would accept it.  
But it still hurt. The pain of not having him tore at her heart, ripping her apart. Roughly she shoved the grief down. It did not matter any more. She had lost him. Before he had come into her life, she had gotten along fine, why not when he was gone?  
Because he is part of you. Akane shook the thoughts away and stood up, watching as Ranma came back to life, her eyes starring around groggily.   
Akane watched as Ranma pushed away Shampoo. Ranma's mouth was moving soundlessly. It seemed like she was calling for her, but Akane could not go. She put on a blank face. She would show no weakness. She would not give Shampoo and Cologne the satisfaction.   
Ranma's eyes meet her own. Though they were clouded and unfo- cused, Akane saw the plea in them, the hurt and the confusion. He needed her. Something horrible had happened to him, and now the one person he did not want comforting him was and the person he needed was watching impassively. Her heart was being ground into a fine powder, her strength breaking under his demanding blue-grey eyes. It was too much for her. The loss was too recent to face like this.  
Then Ranma turned away, disappointment brimming in his eyes. As soon as his eyes left her, Akane forced herself to turn away from Ranma. She walked stiffly towards the front door, her body rigid as a steel rod. She was not going to cry. Her grief would never be shown to the world. "Akane," Ranma's soft, begging cry reached her as she stepped through the door and into the street. It destroyed her.   
As the door closed behind her she took a few steps and fell to her knees. Sometimes the loss is too much, the pain so great that there is no way to express it no release from the burning torment within body and soul. This grief thrust itself upward grasping Akane's heart in a vice grip, crushing the air from her lungs as if a steel beam had slammed down on her body.. She wanted to cry out in anguish, retaliate against the heavens. Everything pushed against the dam holding it in. Akane opened her mouth in a silent scream, wanting the release, needing it. Only a soft whimper escaped her though, as she collapsed against the ground, her life shattered, her soul crying out in unending torment.  
From the shadows at the side of the building, Ukyou watched in silent pity. No one deserved the pain Akane was going through. No one.  
  
It was like swimming through syrup. He struggled to reach the surface and the fresh air. His mind was exploding form the effects of the journey into his body. Something was trying to drag him back into dreams and illusions. No he would not allow it. He would not. If he gave into the blackness that was trying to drag him down, he might never wake up. Xian Lin's sacrifice would be worth nothing than.  
With renewed determination, Ranma struggled to the surface of consciousness. Finally he broke free and became aware of his surroun- dings, the air rasping in his lungs, the bed underneath him, the clothes on his body. Like a drowning man gasped for air, he grabbed each of these sensations and enjoyed them.  
Slowly his other senses came back. Sight was the first. He was in Toufu-sensei's clinic. The Tendou's and his father were gathered around him, and.and...Cologne and Shampoo. He tried to push himself up, wanting to wring the old woman's neck. Then Shampoo was in his arms, hugging him.   
Disgusted, Ranma tried to pushed her away from him, but his arms felt like they had been weighted down with lead. Shampoo barely moved under his onslaught. She asked him a question as she hugged him, but he had not regained his hearing yet.  
What is going on? Where is Akane? He tried to move Shampoo aside and saw Akane starring at him, her face a stone statue. What is going on? Why is Akane so sad? Why is Shampoo in my arms?  
He glanced around. Everyone but Shampoo seemed to be miserable. Kasumi had a pitying look in her eyes. Nabiki was glaring at the Amazon in his arms. Soun was crying, as was his father. Toufu-sensei only sadly returned his gaze.   
He turned back around only to catch sight Akane disappearing out the door. In a moment of desperation, he found his voice. "Akane!" he called out, but she did not respond. He tried to push himself up to go after her, but there was no way. He was too weak.  
"Husband stay with Shampoo," Shampoo said. Ranma was over- whelmed by the noise of the room as his hearing kicked in, pain flaring in his eardrums as the noise assaulted him.   
"I'm not your husband," he stated groggily, "Nor will I ever be."  
"Violent girl give you up, Father promise husband to Shampoo," Shampoo explained, "It only way great-grandmother allow you to live."  
Ranma sank back onto the bed, his mind reeling. He had to marry Shampoo? Akane had given him up? No, it couldn't be true. What kind of hell had he returned to. This was not worth Xian Lin's sacrifice.  
Xian Lin! He glanced down at the statue. A black aura and white fought across the surface, but it was obvious Xian Lin was losing. He had to help her, but how. In desperation he lifted the statue and smashed it on the bed. There was the crackling of glass and something wet covered his hand and the statue.   
Surprised Ranma watched as the black aura of Boukyaku halted its attack and retreated from Xian Lin. Soon the white covered most of the statue, the black only occupying a small corner.   
Picking up his hand, Ranma saw a little blood from where the broken syringe had punctured his skin, but there was a syrupy sub- stance on his hand and the statue. Had that done it? He did not know but for the moment Xian Lin was safe. At least that was one less thing to worry about. Now to deal with Akane and Shampoo and a way to free Xian Lin. Ranma suddenly wished he had never broken off any of his engagements. His life had been so much simpler before.   
I need some answers. What is going on? Why these promises? Is Shampoo lying to me? Why is everyone so sad? Oh god, what has happened? At this point his body and mind retaliated against the narcotic in his body. Darkness and unconsciousness descended over him like a comforting blanket. His head and body slipped backwards onto the bed, as he instinctively curled into a fetal position, the statue clutched tightly to his body like a favorite stuffed animal.  
  
The room was in chaos. Everyone was still trying to figure out what to do. First Ranma had died, or appeared to have died, and then he had come alive and looked around before slipping into unconsciousness.   
Cologne was furious. She did not know how the doctor had done it, but he had obviously found a way to bring Ranma back to his body. He must have used some datura, that would be the only reason Boukyaku lost to that white aura so easily.  
Now was not the time to dwell on that she realized. It was time to make with what she had been given. She had Ranma now. His death would have been better, but the fact that he had survived this was testament to his strength. He would make a priceless addition to the Amazon tribe. Now she just had to get him away from these fools.  
Really it was a simple task. Ranma had been promised to Shampoo, so as Shampoo's guardian she could take Ranma with her. She stepped up to the bed fully intending to do this. Shampoo was sitting beside the boy when Cologne hopped up beside the bed.  
"We take Husband home now?" Shampoo asked anxiously.  
"Yes, great-granddaughter," Cologne answered, "It is time to return to Joketsuzoku."  
"Aieee! Shampoo so happy!" Shampoo began to gather Ranma in her arms when Toufu-sensei intervened.  
"He stays here," he said quietly, grabbing Shampoos forearm and pulling it away from Ranma.  
"I don't think so," Cologne stated.. This doctor was beginning to annoy her, "Son-in-law is to be married to Shampoo, as such he will come with us."  
"You will leave him here, and let him recuperate and say his farewells to his family and friends." The voice was quiet but it carried the weight of an emperor. "Am I understood?"  
"Hai, but that does not mean I must agree," Cologne shot back,. "They promised." She pointed a wrinkled finger at the distraught Soun and Genma. "Are you going to break their honor?"  
"No, but you are going to make a mistake," Toufu said carefully, "Ranma is not going to be please when he wakes up. He will not believe you. He will refuse everything you say and return here t his family. Only then will he realize the promise they made on the honor of his family. What do you think he will do then? Commit seppuku? I believe so. But will he leave it at that or seek revenge first?"  
Cologne smiled inwardly at the thought of her son-in-law's suicide. It might be worth it, but she realized it was a pointless battle. She was not going to be able to walk out of here with Ranma. It did not matter. He was the property of the Amazon tribe now, and nothing would change that.  
"Fine, you may keep the boy until he is healthy and has said his farewells," Cologne agreed, "But I will take the statue of Boukyaku back." She walked forward and grabbed the statue in Ranma's hands and pulled. To her surprise it did not budge.  
"*What is this? How can he hold this statue while asleep?*" she muttered in Mandarin. There was no way she was going to be able to force it from Ranma, he was stronger than her, but there were always pressure points. She touched a few, but when she reached for the statue this time, it flared white and threw her backwards. Ranma only mumbled and pulled the statue closer to her body.  
"I don't think he's going to release it," Nabiki commented condes- cendingly. Cologne saw the amusement sparkle in the girl's eyes. Grum- bling angrily, Cologne hopped to her feet. She would come back for the statue later. She was not leaving it in the hands of these weaklings.   
"Great-granddaughter, we are leaving," Cologne said and pulled the bewildered Shampoo form the clinic.  
"Why we leave, Great-Grandmother?" Shampoo asked.  
"Don't worry, we'll be back later," Cologne assured the girl as she began walking down the street.  
  
Ukyou watched Cologne and Shampoo disappear into the early morning darkness. Anger burned within her like the fire in a forge. Ranchan did not deserve what he was being forced upon him. He had been unconscious, he had not agreed to any of this, and now Cologne seemed to be treating him like a piece of meat. It did not matter that Shampoo loved Ranma. Ranma was being used and Ukyou hated that.  
She hated it because Ranma was going tosuffer and it was hurting the only people who had ever been her friends. Akane was suffering. Even though she was not here, having finally regained her feet, running into the night just before Cologne had exited the clinic, Ukyou knew she would be grieving for a long time. She had seen how much Akane cared for Ranma. The Tendou's were grieving the loss of Ranma, even in their joy that he was safe. It was not fair, it was not fair to anyone.  
She remembered Ranma's words when he had broken the engage- ment. They burned in her mind as a testament to her, but also as a reminder of who Ranma was.  
They were sitting at the counter, Ranma watching her sadly. She was still crying softly, the tears running down her cheeks. "Y-you don't love me?" she asked fearfully.  
"I never said that, Ucchan," he said his voice quiet in the empty restaurant, "I care for you a lot. You're my best friend. How could I throw that away?"  
She sniffled in response, still trying to come to grips with what Ranma had said. He was breaking their engagement. He was no longer her fiancee. "But why?" she wailed, "I've done everything for you. I've given my life for you. I'll do anything for you, Ranchan. Just give me the chance. I'll make a perfect wife. Please, Ranchan," she begged grabbing his hand. She saw the pain burning in is grey-blue eyes, those eyes that had always captivated her and everyone else. She knew he was breaking. He couldn't stand to make girls cry.  
"I-I can't, Ucchan," Ranma said, pulling his hand from her's and standing up, "I can't go on like this. I won't be forced by you or anyone." he turned around to face her. "This is my life, Ucchan. I want to choose who I marry, who I decide to spend my life with. I don't wanna be told who I've gotta love or marry or be nice to. It just ain't me."  
"I'm sorry I hurt you, Ucchan, but I've gotta do this. I hurt Shampoo when I told her. I hurt Akane when I told her, and Kodachi..." Ranma paused and glanced around fearfully, "She doesn't even deserve me to tell her. I'll send a note or something telling her to get help."  
Sighing, Ranma returned to the counter and sat down. Ukyou watched him for a second. She had never realized that Ranma hated being forced so much. Generally he just took it in stride, trying to juggle all of his fiancees. "D-do I have a chance, Ranchan?" she asked fearfully, "Will you one day marry me?"  
Ranma gazed into her eyes at that moment. She saw regret in them, pain, sorrow and then finally acceptance. "I-I..yes. You still have a chance, Ucchan." He said it silently and then slowly stood and left the restaurant.  
Ranma did not deserve what was going to happen to him. He was being thrown around like a rag doll. She knew they had done it to save his life. She knew they had had no choice, but it was still not fair. Maybe there was one thing she could do to help him. If he disappeared, if they couldn't find him...  
She climbed to her feet and glanced into the window. The room was dark. It was obvious everyone had left while she was thinking. Ranma was sleeping quietly in the center of the room. She looked so peaceful as a passing car illuminated the calm and relaxed face.   
Ranchan does not even know what is happening. I've gotta help him. He deserves better than this, and maybe, just maybe he'll come back to me. She smiled at the though and stealthily opened the window and slipped into the clinic's waiting room.   
The room was silent and still. No one was about, but Ukyou knew that Toufu-sensei was in the building somewhere. She silently he hoped he was sleeping.   
With soft steps, she approached Ranma-onna and gently lifted the small, young lady into her arms and then slipped back out of the clinic into the night. It was the only way. She would take Ranma to her place. She would let him recover, and then she would help him do whatever he wanted, and be damned with all of their honor. Ranma deserved better. She deserved better.   
  
  
Author's Notes:  
  
Boy was that a long one. I never intended it to be that long, but I guess I really needed to get to the point at a god rate rather that rush it. Well I don't want to put to much in this Note, just a few comments that will be a repeat of the things in my Author's Foreword.  
  
Pt 2 is finished and now we are going on to Pt 3 and the rest of the series. This is where the original story I had planned takes up. For anyone who has lost track of the time at this point. pt 2 covered 14 days In the curse and 2 days before, so 16 days, pt 1 Ch 2 was 5 days, 2 in the hospital, 2 training that were not shown and the one of the date. Ch 1 of pt 1 was a week, about seven days, actually eight because it goes into the day he wakes up. So total time so far is 29 days, just a little over four weeks. Just though some poeple might want to know. I don't make a big dfeal of days of the week or actuall time. It is easy to miss in my writing, and I guess I dont want people confused.  
  
Well I didn't really tie anything together now did I? Ha, ha, ha, And yo thought I'd have a nifty clear everything up solution, well you probably didn't but let me gloat. I've not had enough to gloat about lately ^_^ Anyway. Truthfully Ranma only changed states and there is still a lot of problems, as will be explained in later chapters. I just hope I keep it interesting enough for everyone.  
  
Oh well enough talking. Ive gotta start writing again, actually nix that. I'm going to bed, and I'll write tomorrow  
  
Until next time  
Joseph A. Kohle  
  
----*----*----*----*----*----*----*----*----*----  
All rights and priveleges to Ranma Nibunnoichi   
belong to Rumiko Takahashi. The characters of her   
series are used without her permission for the   
purpose of entertainment only. This work of fic-  
tion is not meant for sale or profit.   
  
All original characters are the creation of the  
author. All copyright privileges to these chara-  
cters are reserved for the author.  
  
This story is a product of the author's hard work   
and imagination. Do not modify, add to, or make   
use of any part of this work without the author's   
knowledge and consent. Please feel free to archive   
this work.   
  
Comments and criticism are welcome.   
Written by Joseph A. Kohle, (c) 1997.   
Send all comments to Ashira@worldnet.att.net 


	10. Vol 3 Chap 1

DISCLAIMER: Ranma Nibunnoichi is the property of Takahashi Rumiko, Shogakukan Inc, Shonen Sunday Comics, and Viz Video. It is used without their permission and is not intended for profit but only for the enjoyment of fans of the Ranma series. All characters within this fic that are not the property of the above mentioned are copyrighted to the author, Joseph Kohle, January 1997. This work of fiction is the result of the author's hard work and is for the enjoyment of others. Please do not change, modify, or use any segment of this story without the author's knowing and written consent. Feel free to archive this work.  
  
************************************************************************   
  
Meiyo Ai soshite Nikushimi  
  
A Ranma Nibunnoichi Fanfic  
by Joseph Kohle  
  
Part III: The Golden Apple  
Chapter I The Chaos Ensues  
  
The east was burnished in a soft meld of pastels as the sun peaked above the horizon. With the light of day traveled a warm easterly breeze. Twisting and curling around the streets of Nerima, it lifted fallen leaves from the ground to join in it's invisible dance. The garden trees rustled and swayed in time as the zephyr caressed their spreading branches. It was a breeze rarely felt in Nerima. It carried the tang of the sea, the fresh serenity of the Pacific. The world was wakening from another dark night, bringing with it the promise of a beautiful day.  
Ukyou carefully opened the door to her restaurant, too exhausted to even care about the time. Smuggling Ranchan back to her home had been as simple as flying a kite. No one had seen her. No one could've even place her at Toufu-sensei's clinic. It was the perfect crime.  
The door swung open into the dim interior of her home. Silently she entered in case Konatsu had returned during the night. She was not worried that he actually had, but she was not going to take her chances with Ranma. She just wanted to get her fiancee to a bed and then surrender to sleep herself.   
The stairs creaked as she quickly ascended them to the second floor and halted in the hallway, undecided. Where was she going to put Ranma? It was not conceivable to place him in Konatsu's room. That only left her room though. Ranma would have to sleep in her bed, it was the only solution.  
Decided on a course of action, she slipped into her room and carefully laid Ranma-onna on the floor while she turned down the sheets on the bed. Bending down she tucked her fiancee in and gently brushed the red hair from her eyes. Ranma mumbled at her touch but quickly fell silent as she rolled tighter around the statue she still carried.   
Sighing in relief, Ukyou sank back into one of the chairs in her room. It was not long before the stress and exhaustion of the last few days caught up to her. The last thing she saw before sleep won her over was Ranma sleeping peaceful and safe. Ukyou slipped into pleasant dreams with a soft smile on her face.  
  
Placing the last dish on the table, Kasumi straightened and smoothed out her apron. "Nabiki, would you please tell Akane that breakfast is ready?" she asked. She kept her voice pleasant and cheerful, carefully hiding the sorrow.  
It was easy to hide from the pain. She had done it through her entire adolescence and into adulthood. At first, taking care of the family had been an easy way to distract herself from her mother's death. Giving her sisters the comfort they needed, making sure her father ate and made it through each day, working on the bills, the cleaning, and her school work had pushed all of the pain away.   
As time passed, she had found that by concentrating on her duties she was able to remain happy most of the time. She just did not have time for herself, that was all. How important was it to actually have a life to herself? Her family was her life had always been was the only answer she knew.   
That had been the way until the Saotomes had arrived in her orderly house. Like a carnival rolling into a small town, the serenity of her life was thrown to the wind to be replaced by a chaotic whirlwind of madness. At first, she tried to take the changes in stride, but it was simply impossible to do that. Ranma attracted attention and trouble like a lamp attracts a moth.  
As more and more people came and the more chaotic her orderly world became, she began to realize how much she had actually given up for her family. More than that she realized how inadequate of a job she had done.  
With Ranma came realizations about everyone around her. Her father regained the vitality he had had when she was a small girl, still learning martial arts under his loving tutelage. Nabiki's cold and callous nature had surfaced in front of her for the first time. She had never asked how Nabiki got the money she did, but as she watched her manipulate Ranma and Saotome-san like puppets on a string, she had been shocked by her ways and dubious about her sister's activities. Nabiki, however, was the one person in the family she could not influence directly.  
"She'll be right down, Oneechan." Kasumi started at the sound of Nabiki's voice. She had not even noticed her younger sister returning from upstairs. Quickly she started the final preparations on the meal.  
"Arigato, Nabiki. Would you please tell Otousan and Ojisan that breakfast will be ready in a few minutes?" Nabiki nodded and started to walk out on the back porch. "Don't forget to have them clean up before they come to the table, and you might want to also." Kasumi gave her younger sister an appraising eye. Nabiki only returned a withering look and shrugged her shoulders.  
That was generally how it was with Nabiki. She listened, but if she really did not like what Kasumi was asking her to do, she could easily ignore it. It wasn't that Nabiki didn't respect her. Kasumi knew there was a deep love and respect between them. In most instances, like now, Nabiki meekly accepted what she was trying to accomplish. Nabiki did listen to her when she lectured her younger sister. The problem stemmed from the fact that Nabiki acted as Kasumi's equal and therefore was not compelled to listen to her.   
The mistake had been allowing Nabiki to run the family finances. Even if it had been a mistake, it had been a necessary one. In the midst of her early teens she had just not been able to keep up with everything, and when Nabiki had shown interest and even a talent for working with numbers, she had happily accepted, hoping the responsibility would be beneficial to her younger sister, and maybe it would bring the two of them closer together.   
Kasumi began to remove the pots and pans from the stove. Dishing out the food into their serving plates, she let her mind wander back to Nabiki. She had thought that giving Nabiki that responsibility would help her, but the jury was still out on whether it actually had.   
Kasumi had to admit that Nabiki had grown into a very logical and level headed individual, but one who rarely showed any emotions, even within the family. And as for them growing closer, they shared a bond similar to two vice-presidents within the same company. They were equals. She cared for and made the house run, and Nabiki supplied the money that helped make the house run.  
When Nabiki had taken over the finances, Kasumi had lost the game of playing mother. In spite of this, Nabiki had still turned out fairly decently as far as Kasumi was concerned. Even though she followed a mercenary philosophy, she was loyal and devoted to her family. She was independent and strong willed. If it came down to it, Nabiki had the most chance of success in the outside world, but that was because she had worried about the finances.  
It was the lack of emotion and distance within Nabiki, that worried Kasumi. She now realized that Nabiki had never gotten over the hurt of their mother's death, or the lack of love from their father. The added burden of the family finances had been that much worse on her, dragging her down like rock does a swimmer. Being rooted in her domestic bliss, Kasumi had missed the obvious clues.  
Kasumi sighed as she put the dishes down on the table and returned to the kitchen to get the next set. It had been the same with her younger sister. Akane was always a disappointment for Kasumi. She had tried her best to shield the girl from anything hurtful, from anymore disappointments, and it seemed that Akane had gotten over their mother's death.   
For the first few weeks, Akane had spent the time begging her to bring back their mother. At first, she had tried to explain to Akane that their mother was not coming back. Like any child, she had repeatedly denied that for several weeks, but then it had just stopped as Akane took up the family's martial arts legacy with a vengeance.   
From here Kasumi had watched Akane settle into her tomboyish ways. For one year she had even worn boy's uniforms to school. Kasumi had put her foot down at that one. There were other aspects she had missed though.  
Akane had only had a few friends in school. Kasumi had known this because they had come over a few times, not very often but a few times. The thing she had overlooked was the distance between Akane and her friends. They didn't talk about boyfriends or the latest fashions. They had sometimes gone to movies and Akane had always tried to interest them in martial arts. In truth only one of the girls, Mio, had actually been a normal prescence at the home and even she rarely came over for more than a few hours every so often.   
How was Kasumi to know that such behaviour wasn't normal? She had not grown up like a normal girl. With her other duties, she had been forced to forego any friendships while she finished school. She had no clue what was normal, what was considered healthy.   
Over the years she had learned to cook and clean. The simple domestic skills were easy to attain. Years of practice had also developed the more refined ones of mothering. She was a mediator, a confidant at times. With her father she was a calming presence. To her sister's she provided warmth, love, understanding and compassion. Despite the importance of these, they were nothing if she could not use them effectively. She had not known about emotional problems.   
She had not paid close attention to her sister's exact behaviours before their mother died; therefore, although she could see changes in their mannerisms, she had been unable, unprepared to see beneath the facades children are so good at creating. On account of this, Akane and Nabiki, and even herself, though she did not realize it, had not received the help they needed in the first place. Maybe if their father had not broken down, things would have been different, but he had broken down.   
When Ranma blazed into their lives, the affects of Akane's upbringing became very apparent. She had very little confidence in herself, or the little that she did have was lost as she saw how much better Ranma and all the martial artists sitting in his shadow were. From the get go, it had been a challenge between the two of them, and there had been nothing she could do about it.  
It had hurt her because she saw Akane try to ignore all that was going on with Ranma, ignore him, his other fiancees, but then the anger would flash back into her life and she would lose control. It saddened Kasumi. She knew that if her mother had lived nothing like that would have happened, but she had not. The burden had fallen to her inadequate shoulders.  
She had once voiced this opinion to Nodoka-obasan. Nodoka had only laughed at her foolishness. "Kasumi, look at what you have done. You've kept a family together despite all the problems that you did not know of. You gave comfort and warmth, while still advancing yourself in school. I don't call that failure. You are better than most parent's could ever hope to be."  
"But they have so many problems," she had insisted.   
"Everyone has problems. I would assume that my son has many problems to still deal with." Kasumi had smiled a little at that, but Nodoka had not seen it. "No one's perfect. Not you, not me. Maybe they have problems that seem large now, and seem to be your fault, but in the long run, if you care about them, and you keep supporting them, they will get better."  
She had only nodded in response. A part of her wanted to believe Nodoka-obasan, but another part told her that she was making too many mistakes. This part of her caused her to seek them out and correct them. She had first turned to Akane, hoping to bring her sister some sort of happiness.  
When she saw that Akane was actually falling in love with Ranma, she had thought that the perfect place to begin to rectify her mistakes by encouraging the relationship. She had done it subtly, pushing them together by arranging small mishaps in the house. She tried to make them work together. That it always seemed to backfire did not daunt her, since she still saw them growing closer together in spite of everything.  
Everything had changed though. Akane and Ranma had been closer than ever, and then he was gone like a shotting-star, transfixing them forever in wonder as he left them all behind. Akane was suffering and she was again unprepared to deal with it. What was she going to do? She had to keep them going on, but to her, it seemed the spark had finally died in the family.   
The stairs creaked, breaking her thoughts. She glanced up, and her carefully placed smile slipped from her lips. Akane was wearily descending the stairs. It was obvious to Kasumi's motherly eye that her sister had spent the few hours since the incident awake and most likely crying.   
Akane was pale and sickly, but Kasumi realized that this was because her sister had eaten very little in the past few days. The combination of grief, sleepless nights, and little food had finally taken their toll. It was frightening for Kasumi. The last time Akane had been even remotely this down trodden was when their mother had died, and even then Akane had bounced back quickly. She doubted Akane would ever return to her old self.   
Kasumi put the smile back on her face. It was not a time to be sad or depressed. She had to be strong for her sister, just like when their mother had died, but this time she'd do it right. She knew where her mistakes had been. Now it was only a matter of rectifying them.  
"Otousan! Saotome-san! Breakfast!" she called out the rear shoji when she noticed that they had not headed Nabiki's summons. The sound of two people standing and walking towards the house reached her ears. She smiled as the two older men entered the house and took their normal places at the table. Nabiki came from he bathroom a few moments later and took her accustomed seat. Once they were all seated, she took her place and began passing the dishes around.  
"I made your favorite, Akane-chan," she announced. She passed the simple soup over to Akane, who was looking at the table. Akane ladled some out and then passed it on to Nabiki, but as she released the dish, her eyes fell downward and she started shaking.   
Confused Kasumi followed her sister's gaze, to the plate she had set in Ranma's usual spot. Realization slapped her smartly. "Oh, Akane. I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking." Akane only shook her head and then pushed away from the table. Kasumi saw the tears glistening on her sister's cheeks as she spun and hurried from the room. The front door open and slammed as she left. "Akane- chan." Kasumi whispered desperately.  
"Oh my poor daughter!" Soun suddenly cried, "This is a tragedy Saotome-kun! How can we go on like this? How?"  
Saotome-san only shook his head and pushed the food on his plate in tiny circles. Her father began bawling. "My family is falling apart!" Kasumi watched everything just shatter around her. She shook her head. Again! She had messed up again. What would her mother think?   
The phone began ringing, insistently demanding her attention, but her father needed her, her sister needed her. The phone continued ringing, a blaring klaxon in her head, joining her father's woe-filled sobs Imploringly, she looked over at Nabiki, who had a sullen and slightly shocked expression on her face. Nabiki nodded at her older sister's unspoken plea and left the table.  
The ringing soon ceased and Kasumi went to her father and put a comforting arm around him. "It will be fine, Otousan," Kasumi comforted, "I'm sure everything will work out." She hated lying, but it was the only thing she could think of.  
"Are you sure, Kasumi?" her father asked.  
"Oh yes," Kasumi replied. She attempted to put her usual confident optimism in her voice, but to her it sounded hollow and forced. Her father accepted it though and calmed a little, then Nabiki returned from the phone.  
Kasumi noticed the tight expression on her sister's face, the glaring anger, the sad eyes. "That was Toufu-sensei. Ranma was taken from his office last night. He thinks Cologne did it." The statement rocked Kasumi from her precarious perch. For the first time since her mother's death, she found herself at a loss for words. Ranma was really gone. What was Akane going to do? What now? I can't handle this. Okaasan, please help me, but the only answer to her silent prayer was her father's voice lifted in a lamenting wail.  
  
With nervous steps, Akane approached the school gates. This would be her first day back since leaving for Okinawa, and she was very uncertain about whether school was a good idea in her condition. She couldn't remember the last time she had gotten a decent night's sleep. She thought it was just before they found Ouchi-sensei's grave, but it was hard to tell. The last week had blurred into a rollercoaster of impressions and let downs.  
Sleep was not what she wanted though. With sleep came dreams of Ranma and her. Not nightmares, just dreams that might have been considered pleasant a few weeks ago, but now were a reminder of what she had lost. Hell, everything reminded her of Ranma. Where was his comforting presence? He wasn't on the fence or running to catch up with her. She missed the metallic clink of the fence links as the fence bent under his weight, the cocky remarks. Even Shampoo crashing into him or his snide insults would have been welcomed, anything but this emptiness inside her.  
The empty place beside her at the table had been a stark reality to her mind. What she had promised during the night before became reality. What she had given up had confronted her while she was slightly rational, and it had burned like hot steel twisting in her innards.  
Since then she had been wandering, slowly making her way toward school. Though she did not want to go, eventually she would have to face her friends and all the questions. Delaying it would only cause her to dwell on the inevitable thereby magnifying the grief. Besides the longer she stayed away, the more the rumors would grow. More than anyone, she knew how bad the rumor mill was at Furinkan. Hadn't she and Ranma been the primary subject of it for the past year and half?  
"Tendou Akane, my heart leaps in exultation." Akane sighed at Kunou's words. She had just stepped inside the gates and the path was already becoming rocky. "It has been a cold winter night during thy absence. Many are the times that I did long for the burning fire of thy beauty to shed its warmth upon my beleaguered and lonely heart; however, in absence is true love tested like a rough bar of iron, only to be drawn from the destructive fires a tempered blade of unearthly beauty and strength."  
"Kunou, please leave me alone," Akane asked.   
Kunou was lost in his glowing praise, oblivious to all but the beauty of the one in front of him, and the suitable words with which to address such a personage. "Truly has our love become like that tempered blade, a melding of two separate souls into a form made for one purpose. Ah, but the true words escape thee. Like the blushing maiden of yore, you have not the words to express thy deepest feelings. Do not fear, my fair Tendou Akane, for my words doth speak for us both."  
"Kunou, I don't care..."  
"I know, my earthly vision of Athena. This innocent modesty of thine is most becoming, and is a quality I find most endearing to thee." He held up his hand as she tried to speak. The entire situation was beginning to vex her. "No, my love. Words would only destroy the moment as a thrown stone disturbs the beautiful tranquility of a pond." Kunou obviously was not going to take his own advice. Maybe she should help him. As far as she was concerned, her fist was a great muffle.  
"My presence here is a testament of my love for thee. Unlike that honourless cur Saotome, I've waited while he has fled from thy loving presence to mislead another innocent soul." Her building anger changed course to a icy hatred of the buffoon in front of her. How dare he insult her Ranma. "And just as my presence is a testament of my love, let this single rose, though pale in comparison to thy beauty and my love for thee, be a reminder of my deepest devotion to thee."   
With a flourish, he produced a single red rose from within his clothing. The full blossom was perfectly proportioned, more like an artist's sculpture than a living specimen. She did not care though. Everyone was trying to force her heart, and only one had won it, and now he was gone, and this idiot in front of her was insulting the one man she wanted to be with.   
She clenched her fist in preparation to knock Kunou senseless, when a voice in her head deterred her. Hitting Kunou had never stopped him. It was almost an encouragement. If she fought him and defeated him, his warped mind would simply tell him he was not worthy of her yet. In the back of her mind she knew there was a better way. The same thing Ranma had done to Shampoo. Crush her opponent without a single blow.  
She saw Kunou's pleased and knowing smile as she took the rose from his hand. Delicately she cupped the blossom with her hand. She hated him at that instant more than ever in her life. With a quick jerk, she crushed the perfect blossom within her fist. Slowly grinding her fingers around the velvety petals, she mashed the flower, some of the juice and crushed petals dribbling from between her clenched fingers.   
"That is what I think of your love, Kunou Tatewaki," she said quietly, "I despise you. I hate you. Nothing you ever say or do will make me love you." Opening and turning her hand slightly. She allowed the rest of the flower to fall to the ground in a heap as Kunou's face dropped in shock, his eyes going wide in surprise.   
Without a second glance, she stepped past Kunou and walked up the path into the school. Somehow what she had done was much more satisfying than hitting him. She had finally hurt him. The pain and grief on his face would tide her through the day. In a way it was therapeutic. All of the grief and despair she had been through was easier to bear when someone else was suffering with her.   
The door closed behind her, shutting Kunou out of her life for the first time. It was over between them, and Kunou was left in the courtyard with his hopes lying with the rose on the dirt covered walkway.   
  
The streets were shrouded in a thick gray mist that clung to the his legs as he walked. Around him rose the vague, dark forms of buildings. The air was as still as a tomb, the only sound the hollow echoing of his steps on the uneven pavement stones, marking time like a slow metronome.  
A sluggish breeze drifted past him, swirling the mist, lifting the gray veil before his eyes. A young lady was walking ahead of him. Her short blue-black brushed the back of her neck in rhythm to her step as she slowly disappeared into the mist..  
"Akane!" he cried. He reached out to her, but if she heard, she did not turn to look as the mist obscured her form. "Akane, wait, please wait!" His voice cracked as he stumbled forward pushing through the mist like a blind man running down a steep hill.  
The mist thinned around him, revealing the dark shapes of trees rushing past him in his headlong flight. Ahead of him, Akane continued her walk, her head down, her steps slow and dragging like she walked to a dirge. "Akane," he cried out as he lunged toward her.  
Ahead of him the ground disappeared into nothingness. With a surprised shout he stumbled to a halt, his feet on the edge of a wide chasm that reached down into darkness. On the other side Akane was disappearing into the mist again, her form steadily become indistinct to his eyes.  
"Akane! Wait, I need you. Don't leave me!" Frantically he searched for a way across his eyes traversing the chasm until they came to rest on a thin line of silver that spanned from one side to the next. An arcing bridge of pure crystal stretched across the chasm. Even to his inexperienced eye, the bridge looked weak and fragile, but it was his only way to her. The only way to Akane.  
Shouting for her to wait, he sprinted towards the bridge with a desperation born of fear as the mist closed in around him. In front of him the gray bulged outward and Shampoo appeared in his path, a cheerful smile on her face.  
"Shampoo so happy Husband come to her!" she shouted. The words rang in his ears like a judge's sentence of death.  
"I'm not your Husband!' he snarled. He had to get to Akane. "I don't love you!" He grabbed her and pushed her backwards.  
Shampoo stumbled and fell heavily. "Shampoo care not if husband love her," she smiled, her eyes gleaming like two pricks of light in the gray mist. "Shampoo make Husband love her. Never will Husband get Akane."   
She leaped at him, her form blurring, elongating, becoming sleek and deadly. A lashing tail and dark fur sprouted as the body grew muscular and thick, ripping her clothes to shreds. The gleaming fangs in the muzzle reached for him, the slanted, cat eyes glinting in the dark.   
Screaming in terror, he spun and fled from the pouncing feline, only to crash into Ukyou as she practiced with her spatula. They both fell to the ground in a tangled heap. Still terrified he grabbed onto Ukyou as if she were a life line. Slowly, the terror drained from him, leaving him shaking in her arms. For a moment he was comfortable and serenity slowly painted his emotions. Then she hit him, sending him sprawling.   
"I hate you Ranma!" she hissed, "You dumped me. I did everything for you. I don't want you back." She stood and disappeared.   
Incredulous, he watched his best friend disappear into the mist. What was going on? He was so confused, lost in this strange world. "Where am I?" he cried out in desperation. A rumbling growl was his only answer as a hot puff of breath caressed his exposed neck. Trembling, he turned to see the gleaming eyes of the jungle cat Shampoo had become.  
Screaming in sheer panic, he scrambled backward on his hands. There was an amused look on the cat's black face as it stalked him. He saw the muscles tense, the body lower itself to attack him as the tail lashed through the air. He pulled himself backward faster, and then there was nothing under his hands. Swinging his arms wildly he tried to regain his balance, but it was too late. The ground disappeared as he tumbled backwards, falling downward, the dark chasm opening beneath him.  
His cry terror echoed through the walls as he plummeted, the wind howling past his ears like the wails of the damned. There was a jolt in his shoulder as someone grabbed him, deftly plucking him from certain doom.   
Shuddering in relief he looked up to see his father gazing at him with a serious expression. "Arigato, Oyaji," he started to say as he reached up his other hand to his father, so he could pull him to safety.   
"You must be willing to give your life for the Art, boy," his father said and released his hands.  
"No!" he screamed as the wind rushed past him again, the dark, rock walls rushing past his eyes. His eyes were drawn downward by a sudden premonition of danger. He screamed in fright as he saw the clear pool with the single bamboo shaft rising from it's center rushing toward him.  
"No!" He bolted upright in bed, his arms and legs flailing wildly. The next instant, pain slammed through his head, and his vision started swimming. Groaning, he sank back on the bed. A dream. It was only a dream. The thought gave him little comfort though. It had been so real, and there was something nagging at him, just out of his grasp. He tried to track it down, but his mind was swimming in a muddy haze. He could see the pool rushing towards him again, the look in his father's eyes as he released him. Not real, he reminded himself, it was not real, but it was hard to concentrate, hard to focus. Finally he gave in and slipped back into sleep, the pool rushing toward him again.  
  
Ukyou started from her sleep and looked around with bleary eyes. Something had woken her, but what? She pushed herself out of the chair. Her neck and back were sore from the uncomfortable sleeping position, and her foot tingled unpleasantly from sleeping on it.   
Cracking her neck, she examined her bedroom. Nothing seemed amiss. She glanced over at Ranma, wondering if her fiancee had woken up. Ranma was still asleep, although she was now mumbling under her breath. Worried, Ukyou approached the bed and knelt beside it. Ranma thrashed a bit as she neared.  
Gently she placed a hand on Ranma-onna's shoulder. "Don't worry, Ranchan," she whispered, "I'm here for you. I'm not leaving you." Ranma smiled in her a sleep and settled down into a more peaceful sleep.  
Wondering how long he was going to sleep, Ukyou absently brushed a damp lock of hair from Ranma's brow. Her face had a slight sheen of sweat on it. Most likely from the drug Toufu-sensei gave him she decide after a moment.   
Standing, she stretched and glanced down at her alarm clock. "Shit!" she exclaimed, "I'm late for school." She was suddenly a whirl of activity as she rushed about her room. Grabbing her uniform out of the closet and some undergarments, she headed to the bathroom.   
There was no time to take a bath so she settled for splashing water in her hair and scrubbing her face. Quickly changing into the boy's uniform, she rushed back into her room and checked on Ranma once more. She was still sleeping peacefully on the bed. At least that was one less thing for her to worry about. Well it would be until she returned from school.   
Turning to go, she halted in her tracks and smacked her forehead. Returning to the room, she snagged her book bag and rushed back down the stairs and into the bright, late morning sun.  
  
Taking off her apron, Shampoo slipped out the backdoor and into the side alley. Her bicycle was leaning in its usual place next to the door. Taking hold of the handle bars, she walked it to the crowded street before climbing onto it and pedaling away from the Nekohaten.   
The events of the previous night were just catching up to her. Ranma was hers. After all of this time, after all the heartache and failure, she would be married to the one man she loved. That was all she had been able to think about since leaving Toufu's clinic. For the first time in her life she was deliriously happy at the way things were turning out.  
After Ranma had called off the engagement, after all the times he had refused her advances, she had been beginning to give up hope and it had hurt. During the last two weeks she had despaired even more. In her mind, there had been no possibility that Akane and Genma would give Ranma up. In truth she had expected Ranma to die the previous night, and when he had stopped breathing on the table. She shook her head. She was not going to think about that. It didn't matter. He was alive, and he was hers.   
Even with that knowledge, there was a brooding doubt within her. It had to do with her great-grandmother. After they had returned from the clinic, Cologne had disappeared back into the night, apparently to go to get Ranma or the statue. She had returned without either after only a short period of time. From the kitchen Shampoo had watched her great-grandmother enter the restaurant, muttering to herself.   
It had been obvious to Shampoo that she was displeased. At first she had thought Toufu-sensei had interrupted her again, but then she had caught a bit of her hushed words. "Stupid boy. Causing me so much trouble. He should've died."  
The Matriarch's words had struck her like a lightning bolt out of the blue. In one instant everything she had ever thought about the motivations of Cologne had been shattered. Doubts about all that happened in the last two weeks had overrun her mind. Was it possible Cologne had intended to kill Ranma? Had she just wanted everyone to suffer? Was she punishing her great-grand- daughter?  
Killing someone was not an aberrant concept for Shampoo. As a warrior and an Amazon, she had been coached from an early age that death was simply a part of life and that unworthy opponents and worthy ones would at some point fall beneath her hand. Mercy was not a concept the Amazons were accustomed to, especially with outsiders.  
Her great-grandmother had taught her those facts. With her own eyes, she had watched her friends learn the same lessons. At first it had been a simple fact of life as part of the Amazon tribe, but death had never meant anything to her until she was older and her mother died.   
Of course that had hurt her, but Cologne had been there to explain. Her great-grandmother had explained how her mother had been called to fight with the Ancestors and would be reborn into the tribe when she was needed. The words had eased her heart at that time, and she had turned to Cologne's training to bury the rest of the pain. Her mother's dying wish was for her to be a strong Amazon, so Shampoo had lived up to that.  
From the moment of her mother's death until now, she had listened and trusted her great-grandmother. Whatever the venerable Matriarch promised happened. Whatever she said was absorbed and believed. Whatever she asked of Shampoo was done in an instant, without hesitation, until now.  
She loved Ranma, and the very thought that her great-grandmother had tried to kill him filled her with anger. More than that it left her with a feeling of betrayal. This was the woman who had helped her in her attempts to obtain her husband, the woman who had pushed her onward when she wanted to give up, the woman who had cursed her to become a cat for the rest of her life because she had not fulfilled her promises.  
That feeling of betrayal was what brought her out of the Nekohaten. She was scared that maybe Cologne had done something with Ranma when she went to see him earlier. She had to be sure, she had to know. If her great-grandmother had killed Ranma, she would never forgive her. So she was going to check on him at Toufu-sensei's clinic.  
She pedaled her bicycle quickly through the crowded streets until she reached the clinic. Parking the bike, she wandered in. The waiting room was empty and arranged neatly. Obviously Toufu-sensei had cleaned up since the night's happenings. No one had noticed her entrance so she called out Toufu-sensei's name.  
"Is that you, Shampoo?" a voice called back.  
"Hai," Shampoo responded, "Shampoo come see Husband."  
Toufu-sensei stepped out of the back room and walked over to Shampoo. His face was serious, but that did not bother Shampoo. She had rarely seen Toufu-sensei with anything but a serious face, but than she had not known him very long or very well.  
"Where Husband?" she asked again.  
"Shampoo, I'm sorry, but Ranma is.."  
"No," Shampoo cried out in Mandarin. Once Toufu had apologized, she had realized what had happened. She certain beyond a doubt that Cologne had come back empty handed because she had made sure that was the only way she could return. "I'll get you great-grandmother. Why did you have to kill, Husband?"  
Toufu-sensei was seriously confused by this reaction. He did not know why Shampoo thought Cologne had killed Ranma, he was just missing, and this reaction proved that Shampoo and Cologne probably had little to do with it. Things had just gotten a lot more complicated.  
"Shampoo, Ranma is not dead," Toufu said as he gently shook her shoulder.  
"But you said.."  
"I was going to say that he was missing. He disappeared last night. I don't know where he is, or what happened," he explained carefully.   
Shampoo watched him curiously, trying to figure out this new information. She was relieved that she had been wrong about her great-grandmother, but that still did not solve the new problem. Suddenly a new idea appeared in her head.  
"Violent girl do this. She no want Shampoo to have Husband. She take Husband for self. Shampoo kill violent girl."  
Before Toufu could react, Shampoo had raced out of the door and gotten beyond his grasp. He sighed in defeat. Things were going off the deep end very quickly, and he was still dubious about Cologne's role in all of this. "I hope she doesn't find Akane," he prayed silently as he went to the phone to call the Tendou's and inform them of the new situation.  
  
Steeling herself, Akane stepped out of the front doors onto the main stairs leading up to the school. Classes had separated her from the gossip of her classmates; however, it was now lunch time, and silly barriers like teachers and the water punishment were no longer in place.   
"Akane!"  
Sighing, Akane turned to face the first wave. "Hi, Raiko." Raiko was striding purposefully towards her. Her shoulder-length black hair swirled with each step. Behind her, following her like an Imperial entourage, were Mio, Koiko, and Yuka. Her four friends were flanked by Ranma's companions Hiroshi and Daisuke.   
"Where have you been?" Raiko asked as the inquisition party mounted the steps, "It's not like you to just up and disappear."  
Pushing past Raiko, Mio took one of Akane's hands. "Are you okay, Akane-chan?" she asked in a worried voice.   
Raiko butted in before Akane could answer her friend. "Catch up later, Mio. Nabiki hasn't been very free with the info, and I'm dying to know what's going on." Turning, Mio withered under the hostile glare Raiko directed at her. A moment later she was focused on Akane looking for help.  
Akane shook her head in sympathy. Raiko was the undisputed head of her little group. Of course, that meant that Raiko took it upon herself to make sure the others knew what her position was. To Raiko this meant that she included Akane in their little clique, despite the fact that everyone, including Akane, knew she was just an outsider. Akane rather disliked this, and so really did not get along with the girl. She was much more at ease with Yuka and Mio. Koiko was easy to deal with, but she was too attached to Raiko for Akane's taste. Of them, only Mio was a true friend. Yuka was only an acquaintance.  
Akane had known Mio for a long time. The problem was that Mio had very little confidence in herself. There was this meek and submissive attitude to her friend. When Mio was with Akane, she was lively and talkative, although a little reserved in what she discussed. When others dropped by she would never speak unless spoken to, especially if Raiko was around.   
Akane really did not know why Mio was like that. Having known her for since her mother had died, Akane had come to know Mio rather well. She was smart, compassionate, and just a comfortable person to be around. She was not a stunning beauty, but neither was she a homely little girl. There was an unassuming air of innocence about the girl. Soft brown eyes in an oval face framed by brown hair gave her a child-like quality that was enhanced by her unassuming and shy nature. It was impossible not to like her.   
For some reason though, Raiko had taken it on herself to dominate over Mio, which angered Akane to no end. She had always felt protective about Mio and in many instances had stood up to Raiko for Mio, but now she was not in the mood to argue. She had her own problems.   
Her luck held though as Hiroshi stepped in. "Akane, have you seen Ranma? Do you know where he is? Generally he is never gone for two weeks, especially if you're not gone too."   
A slight blush coloured her cheeks a little at that. Furinkan picked up every nuance of her and Ranma's relationship and seemed to enjoy throwing it back into her face. The blush disappeared as quickly as it came though. The mention of Ranma's name brought back painful memories.   
"H-he's not coming back," she answered quietly.  
"Nani?" Almost everyone exclaimed.  
"Not coming back?" Daisuke stuttered.  
""Where's he going?" Hiroshi asked.  
"China," Akane answered   
"Why the heck would he want to go there?" Raiko sniffed.  
"Probably to get cured," Hiroshi explained, "You know how much he hates turning in to a girl. I mean that is where he got cursed in the first place."  
"Oh like it's that bad to be a girl!' Raiko snapped, "Now if I turned into a guy, that would be something else."  
"You have no clue do you, Raiko?" Hiroshi asked quietly.  
Raiko started at the comment. Hiroshi wasn't one to insult others, but then Raiko had asked for it. Raiko wasn't one to culled so easily. "What'd you mean by that?"   
Akane decided to head of the argument before it got nasty. "He's not going to get cured. He has to go because he is.." She couldn't finish the thought. She was not going to admit that he was going to marry Shampoo. If she did, Akane was dead certain that she would breakdown again.  
"He's what?" Mio asked in her soft voice.  
"Yeah, Akane. Tell us. It's not like you should care." Raiko missed the glaring look Mio and Koiko gave her but not the burning anger that flared in Akane's eyes.  
"It's none of your business, Raiko."  
"I bet he's running away from you, Akane."  
"He has to go. His honour demands it!"  
Realizing this was turning into a test of strength, Raiko pulled herself up and glared at Akane. "Honour! What a useless concept. No one uses it that much anymore. I just think he's using it as an excuse to get away from you. You've never been nice to him, and I know that Shampoo is much better looking than you. That is why he's going to China, isn't it?"   
Akane didn't even realize she was moving. Through a haze of red, she saw Raiko's face go from smug satisfaction to surprise and then fear. Her fist connected with her ex-friend's chin, sending the girl tumbling down the steps to the ground below, to lie in a cowering heap.  
Not even remotely satisfied, Akane began to steadily move down the steps like an avenging god. She did not even realize her aura was glowing a bright red, curses seething between her clenched teeth. Raiko had brought up the wrong subject, and on top of her own dislike for the girl, Akane was in no mood for being reasonable about it.  
"Akane, don't." Mio's soft voice broke through the fog of rage in Akane's mind. Her friend's gentle hand on her arm pulled her back from the brink and into sanity again.   
A stronger hand was then on her shoulder. "She's not worth it, Akane. She's just jealous because Ranma never paid any attention to her." Akane was surprised by Hiroshi's words. Mostly because Hiroshi never showed that kind of insight, but also because she realized it was true.  
She remembered the first day Raiko had approached her with an offer of friendship. Actually it had not been much of an offer as a simple inclusion of herself in Raiko's daily schedule. Akane really counted only Mio and Yuka among her true friends.  
Mio had been her friend for many years and had been a companion of Raiko for the last several years. Because of their friendship, Mio generally spent lunch with Akane. It was through this contact that Raiko entered Akane's life.  
A few weeks after Ranma had exploded into her life and the scene at Furinkan, Mio had approached her table with a very animated Raiko at her side. Without even a greeting, the girl had joined Akane and Yuka and had started talking to Mio, blithely ignorant of her existence. Really, Akane had paid no mind to this. She had had little to do with Raiko for the last six or so years.  
Ranma had chosen that moment to show up, distracting her from the reason behind Raiko's presence. As usual he had forgotten his lunch after being drawn out of the house by a fight with a very irate Ryouga. Like clockwork they had started arguing over something stupid resulting in her knocking him out the window and into the fountain.   
"He's cute. Don't you think so?" Raiko had commented to her as Akane sat down again.  
She remembered staring at Raiko in complete shock before denying that fact. "That insensitive baka? Cute? That's the last word I'd use to describe that hentai."   
Surprisingly a small smile had appeared on Raiko's face as Akane had spoken. Already angry at Ranma, and a little peeved at Raiko, she had not even noticed it until she thought about it. More than that, she suddenly realized that whenever she and Ranma fought in front of Raiko, the girl had been pleased with the spectacle. Could Raiko have been jealous of her and Ranma's relationship?   
With Hiroshi's comment, it made sense to Akane. Raiko was hoping that she and Ranma would break up so Ranma would be open game. Anger bubbled forth at this thought. She had always been jealous of others going after Ranma, and the fact that another girl had wormed into her friendship just to get at him made her furious, but the fact that Ranma had never looked twice at Raiko and often ignored the girl when she spoke held a certain amount of satisfaction for Akane. With Raiko already lying dazed on the ground, Akane allowed herself to be held in check by Hiroshi and Mio.  
From her position on the stairs, Akane watched Raiko unsteadily climb to her feet and then wipe away the trickle of blood dribbling from her lower lip. After glancing at the red smear on her hand, Raiko clenched her fist and glared at Akane.  
The girl's eyes flashed dangerously, and then she smiled maliciously, "The truth hurts, doesn't it Akane-chan? You can't stand it because Ranma doesn't want you. It's not like he doesn't have enough reason to hate you."  
"Shut up! You've no idea!" Akane screamed.  
Raiko took a step up the stairs. "You always hit him. You call him names. You don't listen to him."  
"Stop it, stop it," She couldn't help the sobs that entered her voice.  
"Even when he helps you, you yell at him. Then you go and poison him with you're cooking. Don't ya think he'd rather be with another girl who wasn't so busu-de? Who was nicer to him? Ha! You don't even realize how good you had it! Any girl in this school would've gladly taken Ranma."  
Akane could only shake her head in denial. Even though most of what Raiko was spouting was crap, it was striking too close to home. She knew she had never been very nice to Ranma. She knew she had failings, but Ranma never really complained very seriously. He just said things because..because they were true. No, she denied fiercely. He doesn't care. He never wanted anyone else, but now he wasn't hers.  
Raiko licked her lips in anticipation, obviously enjoying Akane's distress. "You never deserved Ranma. Akane no kawaisoo."  
"That's enough, Raiko!" Hiroshi shouted, taking a step down towards the girl, "Your tongue's going to get you in trouble. Now leave Akane alone. You deserved what you got, don't push it."  
Akane barely heard Hiroshi come to her defense. She was forcing herself not to cry. There was no chance she was going to give Raiko that satisfaction. Anger on the other hand was another thing. Now that Hiroshi was busy, his hand had dropped from her shoulder, and Mio was easy to pull away from.  
"I got what I deserved? Akane's had all the boys drooling over her since she came to this school. She deserves a little dose of reality for once." Raiko was totally focused on Hiroshi, which suited Akane fine.  
"You're a real..," Hiroshi began.   
"Bitch!" Akane finished and slapped Raiko in the face. Turning, Akane stormed away from her shocked friends. Her steps becoming faster until she was running away from the main entrance and out to the practice fields where she could be alone.  
"Akane! Wait!" Mio's voice cut through the threatening anger and grief for a moment, causing Akane to stumble to a walk. A moment later Mio caught up with her, breathing heavily from the exertion.   
For a while the two girls walked silently next to each other before Akane just sank down to the ground. Taking the cue, Mio joined Akane and took her friend's hand.  
Mio didn't say a word, but Akane was accustomed to her friend's peculiarities. Besides she didn't want questions. She just wanted someone to comfort her. Raiko's words had hurt her, but not for the reason Raikoor anyone else might have thought. Through Raiko's tirade, Akane had glimpsed something she had missed about Ranma. What she had meant to him.  
The fact that she always fought with him and beat him up when he made mistakes or was with other girls should have pushed him away from her. Ukyou and Shampoo were willing to do anything for Ranma. They brought him gifts, told him he was cute, were willing to fall over at his every desire. They cooked for him, and even though she did, it always turned out wrong. If she pressed the issue, however, he would take a bite. It still didn't matter, she always saw the fear on his face before he ate any of her cooking. It was so different from the genuine gratitude he showed to Shampoo and Ukyou for food.  
Those two were also prettier than her. She shuddered at the thought, but denying the truth was just as bad. Shampoo had a better body than her. Ukyou had that wonderful hair and the beautifully oval face with soft eyes. What did she have to attract Ranma? She had small breasts and wide hips. She wasn't like Nabiki who could eat anything and still stay thin. Even jogging and working out barely kept her at her ideal weight. She didn't have Kasumi's even temperament. What did she have that Ranma could possibly like? Nothing as far as she was concerned, yet he always stayed by her.  
He had to like her. There was something that drew him to her, and even if she did not know what it was, at least it was there. Knowing that he cared for her though was one thing, but knowing what he would do was another.  
There was a bizarre dichotomy in her emotions. On one hand she realized that she was important to Ranma, but where did those emotions stand compared to the giri the promises had bound him with. It hurt even more because she knew that he cared for her. She realized that when he woke up she would not be able to face him. If she did, she would crumble. It was better if she just imagined that he would have stayed than take the chance of him denying her.  
"I've lost him, Mi-chan," she stated in a hushed voice. With an unsteady voice she began to tell her friend the story. It took her a while because she started crying at certain points. Mio just listened silently, offering her presence as comfort to Akane.   
It felt good to get everything off of her chest. She had not really spoken with anyone about how she was feeling, and Mio was a confidant she had used before. When it was all over, Akane felt a little better. It was like she had put a blanket over her emotions for a moment, muting them to her battered senses.   
"I'm sorry for you Akane. I know how much it hurts when you can't have the person you love." This surprised Akane. Mio had never spoken about any guys she was interested in, but when Mio offered nothing else in the way of explanation, Akane let it go. She simply filed it away for a later time.  
"Akane! I've been looking all over for you." Nabiki's voice reached her from across the field. Looking up, Akane watched her sister run across the field to her.  
"Gomen, oneechan," Akane apologized when Nabiki halted next to her, "I got a little distracted." Nabiki shrugged it off and sat next to Mio.  
"I brought your lunch. You left so quickly this morning.."  
"I'm sorry about that. It's just..I..it's going to take time. At least he's alive."  
"Uh, yeah." Nabiki dropped her gaze from Akane' s and then tried to cover it up by watching the passing students. This was enough to send warning bells off in Akane's head.  
"Oneechan? Is there something wrong?"  
"I- well you see, it's like this," Nabiki started.  
"Akane!" There was some desperation to this call, and as Akane turned to face a frantic Ukyou running towards them.  
"What is it Ukyou?" Akane asked. She was not really happy with the girl. Not coming to be with Ranma showed just how little she cared. A small voice told her it might also be because she cared too much to see him like that, but she quashed that thought.  
"Is-is Ranchan okay? I just couldn't bring myself to go. He's fine, right?"   
Akane simply nodded her head. "He's with Toufu-sensei. After he woke up he was not very coherent, and Toufu-sensei wants him to be able to say his farewells. He thinks it'd be better that way."  
Sighing in relief, Ukyou sank to the ground with the other three. Akane was still a little distracted and considered what Ukyou was doing to be normal. Mio really didn't know Ukyou, so accepted her concern at face value. Nabiki wasn't so gullible.  
She knew a performance when she saw one, and as performances went Ukyou would have made a fourth grade production look like award winning material. First of all, Nabiki knew for certain that Ukyou generally came to her for information. Going to Akane was not exactly in Ukyou's style. On top of that, although she had shouted and acted frantic, Nabiki considered Ukyou a little more laid back. She probably would have quietly approached the group.  
Her bedraggled appearance did not help the poor girls case that much more. She had obviously only gotten out of bed a little while ago, and that meant that she had been out rather late last night. There was only one reason for the girl to have been out last night, and it wasn't for her health.  
Nabiki's thoughts were interrupted as the shrill cry that had heralded torment for Ranma so many times rang through the air as Shampoo crashed into the ground next to the small group, sending chunks of turf flying. "Where Shampoo husband? Violent girl give Airen up. Shampoo want what hers."  
"What are you babbling about, Shampoo? Ranma's at Toufu-sensei's where we left him." Akane was not really in the mood for this. Even after seeing Shampoo crying nearly a week ago, she was not exactly ready to be cordial to the girl, especially since her Ranma was going to the Chinese bimbo.  
"Akane lie. Shampoo just there. Airen not there."  
"Nani?" Akane and Ukyou shouted together. Nabiki smiled to herself. Ukyou had not been surprised in the least. She had been a little too quick in her answer, a little to forceful. That meant that she had already known and was probably responsible. It didn't bother Nabiki, but it gave her an idea. Akane was not going to be herself for a few minutes, so now was her only opportunity.  
"Ukyou?"  
"Hai," Ukyou responded throwing Nabiki a nervous glance.  
"Violent girl took Airen." Shampoo accused.  
"I did no such thing, you stupid bitch!" Akane reacted, jumping to her feet, "I keep my promises."  
"I'd like to talk to you for a moment, alone," Nabiki said motioning with her head. A guilty look flashed briefly across Ukyou's face. Then she was calm again.   
"What violent girl know bout honour!" Shampoo retorted. "Violent girl not Amazon."  
"But, Ranchan," Ukyou protested motioning towards Akane and Shampoo who were beginning to warm into their fight.  
"This is more important," she said in the tone she used for her more 'sensitive' dealings.  
Ukyou's shoulders slumped in defeat and the girl stood up and followed as Nabiki lead her away from the growing arguing between Akane and Shampoo. They stopped a short distance away. Nabiki turned to face the okonomiyaki chef and put on her business face.   
"If you're that stupid, no wonder you still can't speak proper Japanese," Akane retorted angrily.  
"You've got Ranma don't you?" Nabiki asked, ignoring Akane's voice.  
"I don't know what you're talking about," Ukyou protested.  
Nabiki just gave Ukyou a level gaze. Few people could stand up to Nabiki when she really wanted something, and this was one of those times. Ukyou soon began to squirm under the attention. She knew the Tendou's had a right to know Ranma's whereabouts, but she was scared about losing him for good. Could she trust Nabiki?  
"Shampoo not stupid. Shampoo figure out. Violent girl have no honour, so plan stealing Husband. Shampoo never give Husband up like violent girl."  
"You don't care for him! You'd rather see him dead than alive? I at least can give him a chance to do what he wants. I don't control him. I won't decide for him. Unlike you" Akane argued.  
Akane's words broke Ukyou's indecision. What Akane had said was close to her own feelings. Maybe she could trust Nabiki for a while. "Okay, I took him last night. I just couldn't leave him there. It was no fair what all of you were doing to Ranchan. He doesn't deserve that," Ukyou explained quickly, watching her feet.  
"Ukyou, I really don't care why you did it."  
"You just want him back," Ukyou concluded.  
"Iie! Well I do, but not for that reason," Nabiki said.  
"Shampoo care for Husband. Else Shampoo not marry Husband. Now give back." Shampoo's voice rose in anger.   
"I don't understand," Ukyou admitted bringing her eyes back into Nabiki's gaze.  
"I don't have him, Shampoo. I wish I did, but I don't." Akane's voice was near tears and Ukyou saw Nabiki wince at the sound.  
"I'll make you a deal. You keep Ranchan at your place, and I forget that you've had anything to do with him. More importantly, since I told you about the thing last night, I'll just say that you were out of town and couldn't come."  
"Why Shampoo believe Violent girl? Older sister devious, why not Akane?" Shampoo's words made Nabiki flinch a bit.  
"If you wanna fight, than we can fight, you stupid bitch!" Akane shouted, "But it isn't going to get you Ranma because I don't have him." Nabiki and Ukyou could both see a flickering red aru out of the corner of their eyes.   
"But, why?" She had to ask although she thought she understood.  
There was a silent pause in both confrontations, and than Shampoo broke the silence, her vice low and threatening. "Violent girl better tell truth. If Shampoo find differnet, Violent girl die!"  
"That is my own business, Ukyou. It's between Cologne, me, and my family." Ukyou however noticed that Nabiki's eyes briefly flitted toward Akane. Ukyou turned briefly and saw Akane seated on the ground shaking her head while Mio tried to comfort her. Shampoo was already halfway across the field, rapidly disappearing on her bicycle. "Do we have a deal?"  
Ukyou took a moment to decide. Trusting Nabiki was dangerous. Though she rarely was a fatality of Nabiki's schemes, she had been cheated and used enough by the girl to know what she was getting into. Something in the way Nabiki had turned toward Akane scarred her though. It made her think that Nabiki was only concerned for her family, not Ranma. Yet at the same time if she didn't go along with Nabiki, Ranma's location would be leaked and she'd lose him forever. What was worse? Trusting Nabiki and maybe keeping Ranma in Nerima, or take the chance that Nabiki would sell Ranma out and force him to go to China? "Hai," Ukyou answered finally. She felt she was making a mistake, but she could not take any chance with Ranma. With his sense of honour, she knew it was going to be a long shot to keep him in Nerima, and she knew she was not up to the task. Agreeing with Nabiki made things easier for her, and at least gave her someone on her side. On top of that, it would give her time alone with Ranma. Smiling slightly, Ukyou left Nabiki and headed towards the school.  
Nabiki returned to Akane and Mio. Her sister was going to need a few things explained. She had to think of something that would keep Akane satisfied until she figured a way to break that old crone's promise. There was no way she was letting that withered old mummy get away with this.  
  
Hugging her knees tightly to her chest, Akane watched her room with vacant eyes. The day had been a roller coaster ride for her emotions. From the incident at breakfast to the encounter with Kunou, the betrayal of Raiko, the revelation from Shampoo, and the catharsis of speaking with Mio, she had suffered through grief, anger, outrage, and in the end calm acceptance.  
It was bizarre. When she had heard that Ranma had disappeared, her stress and emotions had drained out of her, leaving her empty and peaceful, at least after her hatred of Shampoo had dissipated like so much smoke. The thought that it was better this way had entered her mind. If Ranma disappeared and never returned, or at least did not come home for a long time, Shampoo and Cologne would leave, and she would have him back. Common sense told her it was a vacant fantasy, but she ignored that voice. She refused to accept any other possibility.   
She hung on to the belief that Ranma might walk through her door at any moment. If he didn't, she would be alone again, and she didn't want to face that ever again. Throughout her life, she had been lonely. People came in and out of her life like trains at a station, only stopping to take on new people and rest before taking off again, leaving her to await the next train.  
Ranma had entered like that, a blazing bullet shattering the peaceful calm, but unlike the others he stayed and brought more to come and circle around him, coming and going around him instead of her, but he was always with her, never leaving for the next station.   
So what had she done? She had been frightened and angry for upsetting her world and tried to chase him off, to make him leave her alone. He did not leave though, and even in her attacks against him, she knew that she did not want him to leave, just accept her and stay with her. Her anger toward him had turned to anger toward his actions that pushed her away from him. His fiancees and rivals became at times her friends and at times her headaches, but at the center was Ranma by her side every day, every morning, every evening. After a time it had come to the point where if she closed her eyes and reached out, her hand would find him.   
It was a feeling that she had not had since before her mother died. That absolute feeling of security, that someone was there to catch her if she fell. Even in their bitterest arguments, she knew he would change position to protect her, turning his rage and anger against another threatening her. Now, however,t hat was gone. There was an emptiness, a wrongness about everything. Just like him not walking on the fence with her to school that morning, she knew he was no longer there to catch her. She was no longer able to reach out and touch him. She didn't even know where he was.  
No one knew where Ranma was. Shampoo did not have him, nor did Cologne. Kodachi was off the list, since she had been on a trip with her gymnastics team for the last week and a half. Ukyou had also been dropped from scrutiny, especially after Nabiki had announced that the girl had been out of town at a family funeral the day before, and had not gotten back until late that morning.   
Toufu-sensei doubted that Ranma could have walked off in the night, but he was not ruling out the possibility. The only other explanation was her father or Genma-ojisan had come up with a rather sneaky way of keeping Ranma here, but Nabiki had cleared them after a grueling interrogation that neither of them could have endured if they had actually had a hand in Ranma's disappearance.  
If he had left, Akane wondered where he had gone. Trying to figure out what Ranma might be planning was nigh impossible. Even in her loneliness, she prayed he stayed there for a time. It was an extension of her fantasy. If he came back there was the chance he would leave her alone for good. With hi gone there was the chance he might come back to her and to only her. She did not want her last memeory of him to be a final farewell as he left her alone to await the next train, which she knew would never come. Ranma saying farewell to her. She would have preferred to face a firing squad.   
That did not mean she did not want to see him. More than anything she hoped he might send her a letter or something just to ease her conscience, or give her a place where she could go see him. What she did not want was to see him stand before her, his eyes shining and say, "I love you, Akane, but I have to do this," or even worse, "I prefer this, Akane." To suffer through that ordeal was too much.   
She had to trust him. Trust someone she had never been able to trust. Trust someone she had always thought was doing everything but going for her. How could she begin to trust him when she had nothing to base it on. Except what he had done for her, what he had fought for her, what he had endured to perserve her virtue. Was that someone who would walk away? Yet in the back of her mind she saw the lush body of an Amazon fighter clinging to Ranma like saran wrap. Why shouldn't he enjoy something like that? What did she have to offer? Problems, insecurities, anger, but underneath it all, love.  
Unwinding her legs, Akane stood up, and then grasped the bed as the room spun around her. The last few days were catching up to her. Lack of sleep coupled with stress was making her dizzy. She had no appetite, mostly because of the slight nausea that came and went like an annoying relative. She realized she probably should go see Toufu-sensei, but she was going to get some sleep tonight, and she was hoping that she would feel better in the morning.  
Once the disorientation passed, she made her way to the window and looked out into the yard. Her father and Genma-ojisan were playing shogi in front of the dojo entrance. Past the wall she saw cars go by, and in the distance the burning lights of Tokyo reflecting off the sparse clouds in the sky.  
"Where are you, Ranma?" she asked quietly. Leaning forward, she rested her head on the cool glass, her fingers splayed out on the window pane. "Please don't leave me. I don't want to be alone again, Ranma."   
Her words were the truth. What did the rest of it matter? She could say that she preferred him missing, or that seeing him would hurt too much. She could rationalize anything, but in the end her emotions, her feelings were the same. She wanted Ranma, and she did not care how she got him, as long as she got him.  
  
Author's Notes:  
  
Translations.   
Akane no kawaisoo - Akane you're pathetic  
busu-de - ugly (a very nasty insult to a girl)  
ojisan - uncle or older man (in case you did not know)  
obasan - aunt or older woman (also in case you didn't know)   
Well it has been awhile, nearly a month and a half since my last posting of MASN. Why you ask, well the length of this ios one thing and the fact that I've been doing moreplotting than actual writing. I've been working and reworkjing this for the pat month so that the plot fits welll together and I can set up the rest of the story. If you're really wondering about Ch4 then you're not alone. So am I.  
Not really. What I've done is lay some of the ground work for the rest of the series in her. I've got a lot of material to work with right now, and so it is going to take some time to sort things out, and that is what is taking so long, sorting out the characters I'm creating. Creating you ask. Well I know I didn't creat Ranma, but I doubt my Ranma characters are the same, and keeping them slightly true to the original while advancing them believabnly and creating backgrounds for them is a little difficult. Yet simply compared with trying to coherently thread everything together. I've never been very good with making tapestries, and well I've picked up a reall whopper to start on.   
I'm not going to explain much about this section. There really is not much to explain, pretty straight forward. There are four parts to Chapter Four (hmm, four by four, that's sixteen, ne? No real reason, just making sure it still adds up ^_^) Anyway, most of Ch 4 will follow this section pretty closely. Not in creating new problems, but more solving one problem and creating more.   
One thing, I'm taking my time in writng and getting places. I don't feel the need to rush forward and make the story less. All of MASN will follow this pattern. I'm not a fast paced writer, just good at writing fast. Did that make sense? If not well, read it backwards, maybe it will make more sense.  
  
Coming next week,   
  
Ch 4 The Golden Apple Pt 2 Troubles and Tribulations  
  
Until next time  
  
Joseph Kohle Ashira@worldnet.att.net  
Comments and criticism still welcome, encourage& appreciated  
  
----*----*----*----*----*----*----*----*----*----  
All rights and priveleges to Ranma Nibunnoichi   
belong to Rumiko Takahashi. The characters of her   
series are used without her permission for the   
purpose of entertainment only. This work of fic-  
tion is not meant for sale or profit.   
  
All original characters are the creation of the  
author. All copyright privileges to these chara-  
cters are reserved for the author.  
  
This story is a product of the author's hard work   
and imagination. Do not modify, add to, or make   
use of any part of this work without the author's   
knowledge and consent. Please feel free to archive   
this work.   
  
Comments and criticism are welcome.   
Written by Joseph A. Kohle, (c) 1997.   
Send all comments to ashira@worldnet.att.net  
Find my fanfics at   
http://www.geocities.com/Tokyo/Flats/index.html 


	11. Vol 3 Chap 2

DISCLAIMER: Ranma Nibunnoichi is the property of Takahashi Rumiko, Shogakukan Inc, Shonen Sunday Comics, and Viz Video. It is used without their permission and is not intended for profit but only for the enjoyment of fans of the Ranma series. All characters within this fic that are not the property of the above mentioned are copyrighted to the author, Joseph Kohle, January 1997. This work of fiction is the result of the author's hard work and is for the enjoyment of others. Please do not change, modify, or use any segment of this story without the author's knowing and written consent. Feel free to archive this work.  
  
************************************************************************   
  
Meiyo Ai soshite Nikushimi  
  
A Ranma Nibunnoichi Fanfic  
by Joseph Kohle  
  
Part III: The Golden Apple  
Chapter II Troubles and Tribulations  
  
The sensation was the same as he slammed into the water. The shooting stab of icy pain ripping through him as his body rearranged itself. His bones contracted and thinned, reforming as curves filled out on his body. His skin became smoother as his chest expanded, pressing at the slick fabric of his silk shirt. He inwardly shuddered as he felt his manhood shrivel and disappear within him as the female organs developed.  
It happened in an instant, but each change lasted an eternity in which he suffered. It was an eternity in which the horror of his curse etched itself firmly in his mind once again. Rage and terror battled within him as he struggled upward towards the light that filtered through the surface.  
He broke through the surface like a leaping fish. A shim- mering spray of water filled the air around him as he sucked in a mouthful of air. It was only a moment before gravity and the water claimed him again. He crashed back into the pool, the water closing over his head. A quick stroke brought him to the surface where he slowly made his way to shore.   
Someone was waiting for him on the pool's edge, but he could only dimly recognize it as another human being until he was lifted from the water by a man, who pulled him onto dry ground and laid him gently on the ground.   
Blinking his eyes clear of water, he saw a blurry shape above him. The man watched him intently as gentle hands brushed his brow. "Ah it is truly fortunate that I was here to save thee, my Pigtailed Goddess. For who knows what perils might have befallen thee in these treacherous times, but now thou art safe in my arms, and never shall I let thee from mine sight, my Beloved," the blur stated as it clarified into the image of Kunou, "Let my love burn away thy fears like the sun banishes the early morning mist and imparts its warmth to the budding of the land." Kunou leaned forward and kissed him, his lips pressing into his own.  
His mind blanked and he kicked away from Kunou, as his tiny fist swung out and connected with the side of Kunou's head, sending the lecher sprawling into the mist that suddenly appeared around him. With a low cry he sprang to his feet and began to run, scrubbing his lips with his hand, trying to remove the gagging taste of Kunou from his mouth.  
Involved in his physical revulsion, he did not see her until she called out. "Ranko, why are you running? That is not lady- like."  
Startled by the voice of his mother, he stumbled to a halt and turned to face her. She was kneeling at a low table, her pristine blue and white kimono meticulously arranged about her. Across the table lay the unsheathed katana that haunted his dreams. The naked blade gleamed in the soft glow of the four candles on the table.   
"He-he he kissed me!" he nearly screamed.  
"Now Ranko, you are very pretty," Nodoka explained, "It is only natural for a boy to kiss you."  
"I didn't want to be kissed! Especially by him, I hate him, hate him!" he answered in a rage.  
"My poor child. Why don't you come sit with me, and tell your dear aunt everything?" Nodoka motioned for him to take the place across from her. Confused and in shock from the kiss and Nodoka's presence, he took a few steps forward and kneeled beside the table.   
Around him the mist dissolved to reveal the Tendou's home. They were sitting in the dinning area, the shoji open to the backyard, where the sun was playing on the rippling surface of the koi pond. It was a peaceful scene, the only sounds were the chirping of birds and the sweet melody that someone was singing in the distance.  
His mother took out two tea cups and poured some hot water into the herbal mixture. She let it steep for a moment and then handed it to him with a small smile on her face. He accepted the tea with a small nod of gratitude.  
"Now what is wrong?" his mother asked. "What was so wrong with this boy?"  
He did not know how to answer, what had happened didn't seem like it could have occurred. He had been in Jusenkyo with Kunou, and now he was in Nerima. Needing an excuse to think, he lifted the steaming tea and brought it to his lips.  
At that moment there was a squeal from the door, and a black blur shot into the room, slamming into his arm, knocking the tea cup from his grasp, spilling the hot water over his body.  
He screamed in pain as the water scorched his skin, and then in horror as he felt the change take place. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the glee-filled grin on P-chan's face. Uncon- sciously he began to move toward the pig, a red haze of rage obscuring his sight, when he felt cold steel against his neck.  
"Ranma?" Nodoka asked in a sad voice, "What? Is that really you?"   
His mother's words broke the rage, allowed P-chan to escape, and forced his eyes to her. He saw the disappointment, the horror, and the sorrow in his mother's face. Deep down he knew he had failed her. Bowing his head in defeat, he answered her firmly, "H-hai, Okaasan."   
"You know what this means?" He nodded and picked up the bloodstained tanto that was lying in front of him. The warm blood dripped onto his hands as he pressed the tip against his abdomen. A shrill whistle filled the air as the katana descended toward his neck. Then a scream filled his ears, but the icy steel never sliced into his flesh, never parted the muscle and sinew..  
Tentatively, he opened his eyes to see his worst nightmare spread before him. Akane was sprawled on the floor in front of him, the tanto he had just used imbedded in her stomach. Her wrists were sliced wide open, blood pooling on the carpet below them in obscene puddles.  
"Akane!" he cried, reaching for her.  
Her eyes fluttered open and stared sightlessly at him. "You killed me," she accused, "It's your fault. I told you not to go. Now I'm alone. Your fault."  
"No!" he screamed and ran from the sight, blindly pushing through the mist until it cleared and he was in the blasted landscape of Boukyaku. "Why are you doing this?" The question was ripped from his throat by his own terror.  
"He's done nothing. It's all your fault. Even I suffer because of you." He turned to face Xian Lin. His sanity crumpled like a collapsing building. She was nailed to a tree, her body a mass of bloody cuts and bruised skin. Tears filled his eyes, and spread down his cheeks as he shook his head and reached for her. "Why did you leave me behind? Why Ranma? He's killing me."   
"No," he whispered and turned around, unable to face the hideous sight anymore. Ukyou was slicing her wrists as her eyes pleaded with him for help and love.  
"No." The blood spilled from her arms to the thirsty ground.   
He spun from the horror and was face to face with Akane. "I hate you, Ranma." Her hand struck his face, stinging his cheek, crushing his heart.  
"No." She walked away from him. Then Ryouga was by her side, taking her in his arms and kissing her. A wail of grief ripped from his throat as the world disappeared around him and darkness surrounded him and filled his senses. There was nothing, and then something.  
The first thing he became aware of was his head. It felt like someone was beating on it with a large rock, maybe three of them he decided after a rather intense burst of pain. He groaned and opened his eyes, and then snapped them shut again an instant later as the pain increased as he pushed the sheets from his body. That's when he realized that he wasn't a he but a she.   
Anyone else would have freaked, but being himself, he was rather used to waking up with the opposite sex. Although he knew that waking up as a female was generally a bad omen for the day ahead. The red hot poker burning a hole behind his left eye was not going to make the day go any better.  
With this in mind, he tentatively opened his eyes. A darkened room was all that he saw. This normally would not have bothered him, but he quickly realized it was not his room. Actually it wasn't any room that he had ever slept in. "Maybe I'm dreaming," he muttered.   
That did not seem like a plausible answer, but he was unable to come up with any other explanation. Besides the dream he had been having had been this real, so he could be dreaming, but it didn't feel the same. On top of this, his pounding head was not making thinking any easier. In spite of all this, he had the feeling he was missing something, something important that had happened to him.   
Shaking his head, he tried to clear it. This only caused the room to spin around him. Groaning, he sank back to the pillows and closed his eyes, willing the world to stand still. This was starting to become weirder than the other dream he had had the previous night.  
He had been in Toufu-sensei's clinic and Shampoo had been clinging to him while Akane walked away, ignoring his cries. Around him had been his family, watching him with sad expres- sions. "Maybe I got drunk," he mussed out loud. It would certainly explain the headache, but then he had never been much for drinking, not since his father had left that bottle of sake lying out when he was twelve.  
As he lay on the bed, a delicious aroma made it's way to his nose and into his mouth. In response his stomach growled. For the first time he realized that he was starving, and if he wasn't mistaken, and he rarely ever was about food, that was okonomiyaki cooking. He took another deep inhale. Deluxe style with Ucchan's special sauce.  
"Well that explain's where I am," he deduced as he rolled out of the bed. "Now just to figure out what is going on." When he turned on his side, his arm hit a hard object, causing it to roll off the bed to land with a clunk on the floor.  
Curious, he bent down and picked up the object in his hand and held it up to the light spilling in from the window. A thousand memories flooded into him as he saw what he held in his hand. Every thing that had happened rushed through his mind. The fight with Cologne played itself out. He saw the black void he had been trapped in, his desperate fight to find himself. Then there was Boukyaku's world, meeting Xian Lin, fighting Boukyaku in the end. He had been about to give up his life to save Akane, and then Xian Lin. "No! Xian Lin," he whispered in horror. She was still in there.  
He focused his attention on the statue. It was hard to see, very faint, but it was there. A soft white aura glowed around the statue. There was only a small black smudge on the aura. Relief flooded through him. She was okay. There was no way Boukyaku could create a white aura.   
Sinking back to the bed, he placed the statue on the small table beside the bed. "Why'd you sacrifice yourself for me, Xian Lin? It's not like I deserved it. Dammit baka! That was stupid, you could've been destroyed." But I wasn't. He could easily imagine her rebuking him like that.  
"You've put me in a pickle, Xian Lin. How am I s'posed to get you outta there? I don't know anything about these things." Shaking his head, he rested his chin on his palm. There was no way he was going to figure this thing out at the moment. His head was still pounding, his stomach was growling, and he was a girl at the moment.   
Two of the three he could deal with, the other he just hoped would go away soon. Standing up, he absently snagged the statue and took a step. His leg decided that it was not ready for that kind of punishment and promptly gave out. Crying out in surprise, he planted his hand on the side of the bed to support his body as it slumped downward. The arm had other ideas though. A moment later he found himself sprawled on the ground, the rough carpet irritating his nose.  
Mumbling several choice oaths, he pulled himself into a sitting position and carefully stretched out each arm and leg individually. He quickly realized the problem. There was no way for him to tell exactly how long he had been unconscious, but Xian Lin had said something about fourteen days. So he decided he'd been on his back, unmoving for fourteen days, which would explain why his muscles were acting up.  
It took longer, especially for someone of Ranma's condi- tioning, to lose muscle mass, but neglecting muscles over even a short period of time would make it difficult to jump right back in, especially if they had been limp most of the time.   
For thirty minutes he concentrated on stretching and working the kinks out. It was easier than he thought, but still did nothing to alleviate his problems. The increased flow of blood if anything compounded his headache, and the extra work just made him hungrier.  
Eventually he threw his hands up in disgust. There was only so much he could accomplish with stretching. He would have to take his chances and try using the muscles. After using the bed to pull himself to his feet, he took a few unsteady steps as his muscles got used to the motion again, but soon he was walking steadily, albeit a little slowly, out the room and down the hall.  
Pausing outside of the bathroom, he decided that changing back into a guy could wait, he was starving and hundreds of unan- swered questions were running through his mind, demanding an answer. The bathroom was left behind and he made his way careful- ly down the stairway to the main dining area.  
At the bottom, he was greeted with empty chairs and tables. Ukyou wasn't behind the counter cooking, and the place appeared to have just been closed for the night. He decided to check the kitchen. It was the only other place Ukyou might be that was still in the restaurant.   
"Ucchan?" he called, "Are you here?"  
"Ranchan?" The question was asked without much certainty.  
"Hai!" he called back.  
The door to the kitchen burst open a moment later as Ukyou rushed out. Her hair was tied behind her head in a braid, her face filled with sublime joy as she quickly covered the distance between the door and himself. "Ranchan! You're awake. I was so worried."  
Ranma found himself in Ukyou's arms a second later as she crushed him against her soft body in a fierce embrace. "Ucchan, could you please let me go?" he asked as his ribs cracked under her ministrations.   
"Oh, I'm sorry, Ranchan. I was just so worried," she apologized as she released Ranma, "Everyone was. We all thought you were going to die. I mean Cologne wasn't helping until.." She stopped speaking for a moment, but then she quickly pressed on as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened, "But you're okay now. That's all that matters."  
With an insistent tug on his arm, Ukyou lead him over to the counter. "C'mere, Ranchan. You've gotta be hungry. I'll whip up your favorite." Before he could protest, he was seated and Ukyou was warming up the grill as she began to mix some batter. Ranma was not about to be distracted by this, even though his stomach was trying to beat his mind into submission. There were just too many questions he had, and Ukyou's mention of Cologne had intrigued him. He wanted to know what the ghoul had been up to.  
"Ucchan, what happened?" he asked, "Why am I at your place? Where's Akane and the rest? And what the heck do you mean by Cologne wasn't helping? I want some answers, Ucchan."  
"Ranchan, eat something first. Then I'll.."  
He slammed his fist down on the counter, cutting her short. "Dammit! You can talk while you cook. You're hiding something. I don't like being in the dark, Ukyou. I've been through hell, and I deserve some sort of an answer. Now tell me everything!" He was surprised by his outburst. The anger had been there instantly, and it confused him. In most cases it took a lot to set him off, and as far as he could tell, Ukyou had never set him off. He did not have time to consider his emotional stability, however. He needed answers.  
"Everything?" she asked timidly.  
"Everything, or I leave." He wasn't serious about his threat, but than Ukyou didn't know that he was still too weak to walk much more than a mile, and that was being optimistic.  
"Hai," Ukyou answered in a resigned voice, "But only if you promise to stay here for a few days. A week at most."  
"Iie."  
"But, Ranchan.."  
"Ukyou, I could just leave and go ask someone else. If you want me to stay, something is not right. I'm not stupid. I won't be sidelined by a promise to you. I won't be a pawn, Ucchan. Now tell me, or I leave." He spoke slowly, concentrating on each word. He was not used to speaking like this. Generally spitting out whatever came to mind was the easier path, but he wanted no misunderstandings between Ukyou and himself.  
"Hai," Ukyou finally agreed. She turned around to face Ranma. For the first time since he had entered the dining room, Ukyou got a good look at him. He looked haggard, and she suddenly realized he was still a she. "Do you want some hot water?" she asked hoping to distract her.  
"Just get on with it, Ucchan," Ranma pleaded half-heartedly. At that moment, the strength Ranma had forced into her features disappeared to be replaced by a weary and pained expression. She was leaning heavily against the counter, her hand clutching something. Ukyou leaned closer to see what it was and then drew back like she had just found a live snake in her bed.  
"Why are you still carrying that thing?" Like Akane, she had come to hate the sight of the statue. There were too many dark memories surrounding it, too many painful and uncomfortable moments. It filled her with revulsion every time she saw it.  
"What thing?"  
"That statue. Throw it away, break it. I don't care what you do to it, just get rid of it. That thing caused all of this."  
Curious, Ranma glanced down at her right hand and saw the Statue of Boukyaku held protectively in her fist. Its presence was a surprise to her. Ranma didn't remember picking it up when she left Ukyou's room, but as she pondered the situation, she decided that it was probably because she was still worried about Xian Lin.   
On impulse, she gave it a cursory examination. Xian Lin's white aura still glowed steadily around the idol. Being the first time she had actually observed the statue, Ranma was a little curious. She did not see anything repulsive about it. Really there was no form to the random swirls of dark stone. No, that was not quite true. There was a sense of comfort in the pattern. It was almost like Xian Lin's personality had become one with the idol. It relived her momentarily, since she did not have to worry about Xian Lin being in any immediate danger. But if the statue was harmed? Or lost? Ranma was unable to puzzle out the answer to that query, but the possible answers terrified her.  
On account of this, even the idea of throwing the statue away like some piece of rubbish was inconceivable to Ranma. If she did, she would be ignoring her promise to Xian Lin. Keeping the statue safe until he could find a way to help Xian Lin free herself was part of the promise he had made.  
Besides the statue had not attacked him, Boukyaku had attacked him. Cologne had attacked him. A burning rage filled him as he thought of Cologne. Because of Cologne he had almost died. Because of Cologne Xian Lin was still imprisoned. He hated Cologne with all of his heart. What she had tried to do was sickening to him. To be relegated to a curse for punishment was despicable. Why could she not just fight him? Why had she tried and kill him? In the end, it didn't matter. All that mattered was the anger that burned in him, that he vented upon Ukyou.  
"The statue didn't do anything, Ukyou. Cologne did. She put me in there. She nearly killed me. No! It was worse than killing me. She was going to destroy my soul!" Ranma snarled.  
"She saved you, Ranchan," Ukyou whispered.  
"Nani?" The absurdity of Ukyou's statement caught him off guard and dulled his anger.  
"She saved you. She performed a ceremony that broke the spell she had put on you."  
Ranma shook her head angrily. "I don't think so. Whatever ceremony she performed didn't save me, something else did." Ukyou sucked in her breath in surprise. "I know. I was in there. Every thing was fine up till the end, and then the last part just didn't work."  
"Toufu-sensei," Ukyou exclaimed as several things clicked in her mind.  
"What about Toufu-sensei?" Ranma asked.  
"H-he saved you. After you died, he injected something into you, and then you started breathing again."   
"I'll have to thank him, but I wonder why Cologne was even trying to save me," Ranma mussed. Her recollection of what had happened just before and after Cologne had thrown the statue was sketchy at best. During her imprisonment, she had simply assumed that Cologne was trying to kill her. Xian Lin had implanted the idea that beating Boukyaku would free her from the prison. It had not been so, but Ranma was not going to hold it against Xian Lin. If the Amazon hadn't lied, Ranma knew she would never have even tried to live much less escape.   
Ukyou's mind was already ahead of Ranma. Unlike the others, she had noticed the disappointment in the Amazon Matriarch when Ranma had woken from the coma. Whatever had happened that night had not gone to her plan. A picture of the calm face the old ghoul had assumed after Ranma had gone unconscious, the callous- ness with which she had dismissed Ranma's attempts to save himself, filtered through her mind. Had the old ghoul wanted Ranma dead? It made no sense, but it was the only plausible reason.   
"That bitch!" Ukyou seethed, "And after she made Akane and your father give those promises. She was trying to kill you."  
"Of course she was trying to kill me," Ranma muttered. Then something else Ukyou had said entered Ranma's thoughts. "What promises? What are you talking about?"   
Ukyou started guiltily and looked away from Ranma. "Nothing," she mumbled and turned back to the grill to start cooking.  
"Tell me, Ucchan!"  
"I-I," She frantically searched the room for an escape. If she told Ranma about the promises, Ranma would rush out of the door, out of her life forever. It was a certain as water hitting Ranma. There was no escape for her. No way to keep him from leaving.  
"Ukyou." Ukyou shuddered. It was the same voice Ranma had used when she had broken their engagement.  
"I-I can't. Please don't make me. You'll leave me!"   
"I'll leave you if you don't tell me. What the hell is going on? Why am I at your place? Tell me, dammit. No more games!" Ranma's eyes flashed in anger as she leaned over the counter. Blue energy flickered over the girl's clenched fist, arcing across the statue within it. "Tell me."  
With a low cry, Ukyou sank back against the side of the grill. She realized that she had to tell him, not because there was no way out of it, but because he deserved to know. "Co-Cologne said she'd save you. Only, only if Akane and your father promised to give you up and p-pledge you to Shampoo." Ukyou waited for the explosion, for the curses, the glowing balls of ki, but they never came.  
"What kind of promises?" Ranma's whispered question barely reached her ears.  
"Your father and Tendou Soun-san annulled your engagement, and then your father pledged you to Shampoo. It was all on your family's honour. She made it giri, Ranchan."  
"Akane? What did Akane promise?"  
"To give you up, on her family honour."  
"And you?"  
"I hid. She didn't see me. We can still be together," she glanced up hopefully, and then wished she hadn't.   
Ranma had been speaking in a hushed, flat voice, but her face was nothing like that. Rage burned in her eyes, mocked by the few tears on her cheeks. Her teeth were clenched, as were her hands. Around her flickered a blue-white aura that was slowly filling the room with light.  
"She's got me. She's finally got me," Ranma seethed under her breath, "If she thinks..I'm gonna..." Ranma didn't finish but slowly rose from the counter and walked to the stairs and disap- peared up them. "She's got me." The words echoed softly in the dining area after Ranma had gone.  
To Ukyou, it looked like a majestic pace worthy of a warrior bent on a noble purpose, only the intense hatred she had seen in Ranma's eyes shattered the illusion. Then what Ranma had said finally caught up with her. "No, he's gonna go along with it."  
  
Above him a few stars twinkled, somehow managing to reach past the burning light of Tokyo. He didn't know how late it was, just that it was late. He had left Ukyou alone in the restaurant several hours before, making his way to her roof after changing out of his cursed form. This was not a good time to be a girl. As far as he was concerned this was not a good time to be alive. His life had crashed around him in a matter of seconds. Everything he had cared for, everyone he cared for was, like the stars, unreachable.  
"Cologne." The name was a curse on his tongue. What she had done went beyond everything even he thought her capable of. In her efforts to gain him, she had sunk beneath honour to depravity, but she had done it flawlessly. Like a spider, she had spun her web, and he had unwittingly fallen into it. The thin, nigh intangible threads of honour held him as if chained to a wall. To get out he would have to chew off his own arm, and even though he might do it, there were many other aspects he had to consider first.  
But even now he did not want to contemplate them. Although he knew he would have to face the inevitable, his rage was burning like a forge within his body, tempering and hardening his heart. Deep down he knew that he was going to suffer in some way, and so he was preparing himself. If he was to suffer, than Cologne would come down with him. Anger and hatred became a fuel to drive this determination within himself.  
From the beginning, he had just wanted to spend his life learning the martial arts. They were his life. When his father had dragged him into his curse, he had held in the worst of his anger and tried to deal with it. When he had been engaged, he had accepted it for the sake of his family honour. For each new obstacle he had accepted them in the end. He had known that no matter how many protests he gave he would still be chased after, engaged, used, humiliated, challenged, and beaten down by the people he considered his only friends. His pride had borne it with stoic silence.  
Pride, however, could only take so much, and for too long his had borne a load even Atlas would have fallen under. When Shampoo had come between him and Akane on their first date, he had reached the brink of a dangerous precipice, and now he was falling, allowing his anger and hatred to carry him forward.   
His exhaustion and confusion did not help matters. He thought he was trapped within Cologne's net. To him there was no obvious way out. It was true that she had forced the promises, but that was never a reason for honour not being held. In the past it had been considered perfectly justifiable. If someone had his honour forced, he was obviously not strong enough in the first place and therefore deserved the consequences.  
That had been more than a century ago. This was modern Japan. If such a concept existed, than Ranma had never seen it used. Besides he would never admit that Akane and his father had not done what was right. They had probably been worried over him, and not the consequences. Even with that he could not be sure.   
Though he deplored killing, he wished it were the Tokugawa period, then a simple sword thrust would end his troubles along with Cologne's life. At the moment he did not want an answer but vengeance and satisfaction. For once in his life he more than desired to remove one of the hurdles in his life, he ahd a reason to.  
Who would know? Who would care? If he was quiet about it, no one would notice. Or if he challenged her, no one could blame him for her death, it would be an accident. She deserved it. How many times had Cologne thrown his life into confusion because of that stupid law? Too many times. Too many times. He hated her that much. He wanted Cologne dead.   
Then his hand fell to the statue, feeling the smooth stone, the calming effect of Xian Lin. It was as if a door opened in his mind, showing him what he had been about to do. Shock and self-loathing pushed aside his anger. "Oh god," he whispered in horror, "What was I gonna do? I was gonna kill her." He shook his head in stunned disbelief. What had Cologne brought him to? Was he going to let her deeds taint his life by forcing him into a rash course?   
He wanted to answer no, but his previous thoughts denied him that luxury. If he had not had the statue, if he had never meet Xian Lin, he would have killed Cologne and sentenced himself to a life worse than the one he was following. Even now he was still aware of the anger burning in the back of his heart, waiting for him to let down his guard again.  
Lifting his eyes, he gazed into the sparsely filled sky. Why did his life have to be so complicated? He tried to do the best he could, and the world seemed bent on destroying him, and now his own emotions were throwing themselves against him. At some point he knew something had to give, and he prayed that it wasn't him that did.   
If he lost it, he would forever give up the only things that mattered in his life. His art, his family, and Akane. He could never give them up, especially Akane, but now he was being forced to. He was being pulled around by a leash once again, and he saw no way out of it. So many problems, so few answers.   
Alone on the roof, he sat and watched the stars, praying that some answer would appear before him, but heavens have never cared about man. They ignored Ranma as he muddled through his life. There was no one to take the load from his shoulders, for him to lean on. He would never allow anyone to suffer because of him. His pride forced him to take the punishment with stoic calm. What did it matter? It was his load and he would bear, eventhough he saw no way of ever removing it from his shoulders.  
  
Cologne, exalted Matriarch of the Amazon Tribe, master of martial arts, and healer cracked her pipe against the fireplace mantel with a sharp jerk. A shower of glowing sparks filled the air around the pipe, only to blink out one by one like fireflies in the night. With an audible grunt of dissatisfaction, she reached into a pouch and brought out some tobacco. She tamped it into the bowl of her pipe and then lit it from the last dying embers of the fire place.   
Clamping the pipe stem firmly between her teeth, she puffed furiously as she watched the darkened kitchen and dining area. For the first time in her life she was not in control, and she found that it tasted bitter on her tongue. It was impossible to point down the point she had lost control. She wanted to believe it had been when Ranma had disappeared that morning. She was not going to delude herself though. That had only been the last in a series of setbacks. The doctor, the failure to retrieve the statue from the boy, simply having her future son-in-law react so unpredictably to the Judgement. No, things were not going well.  
She had to find the boy and get him out of Japan before anything else happened. The oaths would bind hm to her, and if they didn't she would have to kill him. She was not prepared to do that. It was not that she was squeamish about killing Ranma. She was doubting whether she could actually accomplish it. Trying to grab the statue from the unconscious Ranma had taught her a harsh lesson. Without warning, a blast of white energy had washed through her body with the force of a tsunami, overpowering all of her defenses. It had only been through sheer force of will that had prevented her from screaming in pain. Never had she felt such power, such pure energy. Absently she rubbed her right hand. It still stung from the blast, despite her best efforts to relieve the discomfort.  
She didn't know if it had been a reaction from the statue or from Ranma, but whatever it was, it was dangerous to her. If it had been Ranma she did not want to know. To have such power while unaware of the world. She shuddered at the implications of that. She could not deal with a full blast of whatever it had been. If he fought, she knew the chances of success decreased considerably. Yet how could she get Ranma out of the country if he did not agree?   
Although she did not want to, she realized she might have to use a few of her more exotic potions. If Mousse returned soon, it would be even better. If he had succeeded, then she would be able to control Ranma with no problem, but she could not control him until she found him.   
There were only a few places he could be. The obvious one was somewhere at the Tendou household, although she had already checked and he wasn't there. There was always the possibility that they might have hidden him, but where? One of the other fiancees? She had yet to check the Ukyou girl's restaurant, but if Ranma was there, he would keep for a time. Actually she almost preferred him there. At least then someone would be keeping him away from the Tendou's, at least she hoped that was the case.  
Her only other option was to let the Saotome boy come to her. It was a little more risky. He might come seeking blood, but then he also might come to try and reason with her. She doubted it would be the latter, but there was always hope.   
Hope was overrated though. Only a fool trusted in hope and luck. In her lifetime, she had never seen anything good come from hope and luck accept pain and tragedy. She needed a definite plan, and she did not have one. Everything had been set in place. A lot of it had fallen apart but the foundation was still intact. Once the walls settled there still might be a chance to salvage the entire structure, but could she wait.  
There was little else to do, she decided after a few moments. It was either wait or take the chance of throwing gasoline on the fire by forcing her son-in-law's hand. She knew he had a short fuse, and it would be made even shorter when he discovered how well she had trapped him.   
She knew he would agree. The honour was too important to the boy. Even if he did love the Tendou girl, he would force himself to come to her and find a way out of the predicament in the most honourable way possible. The possibility of him not doing the expected was nigh inconceivable to Cologne. She expected the sun to shine at night before she expected Ranma to forego honour. But there was always the possibility, she reminded herself.  
She realized this was true and decided to take a few prepa- rations. She would let Ranma come to her, like he would. When he did, she would be waiting. If he did not agree, than she would force him. There were ways to subdue even the strongest and most determined human, and she had all of them within her possession. This was the last time that the honour of the Amazon's was to be threatened.   
A tiny smile crept across her face, turning the wrinkled skin into a mass of crevasses and valleys. Taking one more long pull on her pipe, she knocked it against the fireplace mantel once more and watched as a new cloud of orange and red embers floated and slowly died in the air. Ranma had as much chance of escaping as those embers did of reaching the ground burning, she decided as she left the kitchen. Behind her a larger ember touched the flagstones and flared briefly before dying.   
  
Ranma wearily entered the dining area. After spending most of the night thinking, Ranma had finally fallen asleep on the roof in the early morning. Unfortunately, or fortunately depending on what was more important, a sudden storm had made it impossible for her to sleep much past sunrise. So now, not only was she tired and cranky, her clothes were soaked completely through and hanging ungracefully off of her figure.  
"Ohayo, Ranchan," Ukyou called out cheerily as Ranma walked up to the counter and slid onto one of the stools. "Breakfast will be just a moment."  
Ranma grunted a response at Ukyou's still turned back and silently waited for the food. A few moments later, a steaming okonomiyaki was dropped in front of her. All of her troubles disappeared as the delicious aroma assaulted her senses. Grumbling loudly, her stomach reminded her that she had not eaten last night and probably not that much over the past weeks either.   
Ranma was one who understood the wisdom of listening to her stomach. In a matter of moments, she was devouring the steaming food almost as fast as she could throw punches. As always, Ucchan was ready with another when Ranma had finished the first. Ranma barely noticed the new okonomiyaki, it was food and she was starving.   
When only the last few bites of the third one were left, Ranma began to slow down and actually taste the food. Swallowing the last bite, she glanced at the fourth one and dismissed it for the moment, she knew what she had eaten would tide her over until lunch at least.  
"Do you want some hot water, Ranchan?" Ranma shook her head at Ukyou's question.  
"No, I'll get it later," she explained. "I just want to know if there is anything you didn't tell me yesterday."  
"I told you everything, Ranchan. I'm sorry, but I was just not paying too much attention. I mean I was watching, but I really didn't have much to do with this. Even when your father and Akane went to look for that Ouchi-sensei in Okinawa, I just sorta followed along."  
"Ouchi-sensei?" Ranma asked curiously. "Did he have a cure or something?" The fact that Akane had not just given in without a fight pleased him, but it also meant that she had known exactly what her promise would entail.  
Ukyou brought her own food to the counter and sat across from Ranma. She picked at her okonomiyaki for a moment and then spoke again. "This entire thing has been a nightmare. I don't know all of it, but Akane told me a few things. They were trying to find some way to save you, but nothing was working. Toufu- sensei heard a rumor of this guy in Okinawa who had broken that curse before. I sort of fell into the plan to go, and then Akane, your dad, and I were all off to Okinawa."  
"It didn't work though. When we found Ouchi, he had been dead for several months. It was a crushing blow to all of us, and when we got back, there wasn't any time left to find another cure. So Akane and your dad and Tendou-san all made those stupid oaths."  
Ranma could tell that her friend was leaving a lot out of the story, but it did not matter. That her friends and family had not lain down and meekly accepted what fate had placed in their path lifted Ranma's spirits a tiny bit. Maybe things were not going to be easy for her, but maybe they were not as bleak as she thought.  
"Ranchan, what're you planning." Ukyou recognized the thoughtful look in her iinazuke's eyes. "I don't want you doing anything rash."   
"I'm thinking I've gotta go talk to some people," Ranma stated as she started to push away from the counter. After the previous nights loss of control, doing something rash was the last thing on her mind. She needed information. As far as she was concerned, it was time to settle a few of her new troubles.  
"No," Ukyou exclaimed a little more forcibly than she had intended, but the sight of Ranma starting to leave had scared her for some primal reason. She felt that, if Ranma left now, she would never return. "Please don't leave me. Stay here with me. We could be happy, Ranchan. This our chance. I don't care about those stupid promises. I can support you and a dojo. Besides, no one knows where you are. They all think you just disappeared." It wasn't exactly the truth, but Nabiki was on her side, wasn't she? "Please," she begged, grabbing Ranma's petite hand.  
As Ukyou's impassioned plea washed over her, Ranma was struck dumb. It was such an easy answer, but was it one she could live with? In her heart she knew she couldn't, but her mind kept saying to go along with it, just for a little while. If she did go with Ukyou, she could hide from the world and her troubles. For once she would not have to deal with the problems of her life. Run and hide just like her father.   
"No!" Anger washed over her. She would never become her father. "If I start running now, what'll stop me from running from the next problem and the next. I'm not going to be like that, Ucchan. I'm sorry if I hurt you, but I can't continue to do things like that. It has to stop somewhere, and now is the best time to start."  
"I understand, Ranchan," Ukyou said in a small voice.  
"But you still don't like it," Ranma finished softly. She sat back down at the counter, and squeezed Ukyou's hand. "There's a lot of things I don't like either, but I still live with them." She pointed at her breasts. "I didn't want this body. I didn't want four fiancees and dozens of other girls chasing after me. I never asked to beat Shampoo, or to have to deal with Cologne."  
"I never said you did," Ukyou answered.  
Ranma didn't hear her though. "Do you think I wanted to be thrown in the statue and fight for my existence? What did I do to deserve all of this? I followed my father. I never took care of things. I never said no to anyone. I hated hurting people I cared for, and I still do. But guess what, Ucchan. Ya don't get anywhere in life without hurting people. Nice guys finish last, and I won't finish last in this."  
Ranma pushed herself away from the counter and began pacing about the room in silence for a few moments before she faced Ukyou, who was starring at her in sympathy and shock.   
"Ya know, Ryouga always attacks me complaining 'bout how horrid his life's been because of me. He keeps attacking me again and again just making it worse for him and me. Maybe if he sat down and thought for just one damn minute, he'd realize that it ain't all my fault."  
"I ain't saying I'm better, Ukyou. I've blamed everything on Oyaji and on those around me. Well it might not be my fault that all of this happened, but it sure as hell is my problem. So what do I do? Run from it? Ignore it? None of 'em have worked yet. So I ain't gonna do that anymore. Maybe if I just be a man about this and face it, than I might have some kinda life that I want."  
"Ranchan, I'm sorry. I don't want you to run away, but let things settle first. Give everyone a chance to calm down and then maybe we can work things out to everyone's satisfaction. If nothing else we can get them back to the way they were," Ukyou begged.  
"The way they were," Ranma laughed derisively, "I'll be damned if I go back to the way they were. No, Ukyou. I finish this now. If it takes me the rest of my life to put things right, than it'll take me the rest of my life. I'm in a pickle here, Ukyou, but I'm not giving up. I won't let anyone push and prod me like some damn puppet."  
"But,"  
"That's my last word, Ucchan!" Ranma shouted. Ukyou took an involuntary step backwards. She clearly remembered the anger in Ranma the previous night. Ranma saw this and her face softened as did her tone. "I'm sorry, but I've gotta do this. I've got promises to fulfill." Ranma absently hefted the statue she had been holding the entire time. "I'll see ya, Ucchan." With that said, Ranma silently left the okonomiyaki-ya, her face set in a determined expression. She had a daunting task in front of her, and this was just the first step.   
Behind her, Ukyou couldn't control the tears as they fell down her cheeks. Something told her, Ranma had walked out of her life forever. "Wakare, Ranchan. Wakare," she whispered softly and then started crying in earnest.   
  
"C'mon, Takanari, Give me the money. I haven't got all day," Nabiki demanded impatiently.  
The dark-haired boy in front of her twiddled his thumbs nervously while he meticulously examined his shoes. Tentatively, he glanced up and then dropped his eyes when he saw the fire burning in Nabiki's cold glare. "I-I don't have all the money, Nabiki-san," he stammered in excuse. "If you could just give me a few more days...Tomorrow at least." He quickly amended as he heard her teeth grind together.   
"How much do you have on you?" she asked sweetly. Takanari shuddered in dread.  
"I've only got seven thousand, Nabiki," he offered hopefully. "I can get the rest by tomorrow, I swear. I've got a few people who owe me. Really, I do."  
"Takanari-san," Nabiki said in a reasonable voice, "If you had friends who owed you, and you knew that I was going to collect today, you probably should've collected, ne?"  
"Soo-de su, Nabiki-san. It's just that I-I, ah, I forgot, and then some things came up."   
"You know what happens when I'm not paid."  
"But it's not fair," Takanari protested. "It's not my fault!"  
"Tsk, tsk. Not your fault? Taka, I didn't force you into that position. Is it my fault you chose the wrong time and place, allowing me to get the pictures?"  
"No, it's not," Takanari conceded, his shoulders slouching in defeat.  
"Listen, Taka. I'm feeling a little magnanimous today, and since this is the first time you've done business with me, I'll give you a break."  
"Arigato gozaimasu, Nabiki-san. Arigato." Takanari started backing away, bowing his head in thanks.  
"Just a minute," Nabiki snapped, "Give me the seven thousand now." She held out her hand, and Takanari counted out the money from his wallet and handed it to her. "Tomorrow morning, you will pay back the other three thousand plus two thousand in interest, and you owe me a favor, to be collected at my leisure, or else that picture goes to your girlfriend, your parents, and I post it in the girl's locker room. Got it?" Takanari nodded his head in fear. "I'm so glad. That'll be all." She dismissed him with a wave of her hand. Takanari quickly scampered form Nabiki's sight, glad that the torment was over for the day.  
"When will they learn?" Nabiki muttered as she made a brief summary of the event in the notebook she always carried with her. It was kind of nice to be so feared by the student body, but it was also losing it's challenge. Her reputation had grown so much over the years that people automatically were in a pliable position by the time she started talking to them. It made her job easier, but it also added an amount of tedium to the process.  
Customers like Takanari were far too easy for her. She wanted a challenge again, the thrill of discovery, the adrenaline of the hunt, and then the ecstasy of crushing a superior foe. That was why the prospect of going up against Cologne was such a stimulating one. In that woman, the experience of age, the ruthless efficiency of the hunter, and the cunning of a fox were all wrapped up into one package. Cologne was a deadly opponent, but one Nabiki was going to enjoy humiliating.  
Nabiki started walking toward school. With half an eye, she observed the daily play of life at Furinkan unfold around her. She was not too interested in it today. There were other things being hatched by her mind than the weaning of money from the normal group. One was Togashi Raiko. In most cases, Nabiki would have admired what the girl had done, using another person to get at someone, but when that person was Akane, it was a whole different matter. Nabiki used Akane sometimes, but it was never that cruel or heartless. She never intended to hurt her sister. It was for the cruelty that Nabiki would do something to that girl, but for now she had to dig herself a foothold in the battle with Cologne.  
The game with Cologne had started on the wrong foot for Nabiki. She had been maneuvered into a position where she was being forced to make a move or concede before the game had even started. But that was before. Cologne had held the cards tightly in her hands, but Nabiki knew that the tighter one held onto their cards the more chance there was of gaining one of those cards. In the end Cologne had made a simple mistake, not counting all the players. So now, because of Kuonji Ukyou, Nabiki had Cologne's ace up her own sleeve.  
Now came the hard part. How did she use that ace? Although holding Ranma would delay the game, Nabiki knew it was delusional to even consider that she could keep Ranma out of sight for much more than a few days, unless of course she drugged him.  
She mulled over that idea for a moment as she sat down under a tree, but dismissed it as more risky than helpful. Knowing Ranma, he become more untenable with drugs than without. The question of controlling Ranma was a difficult one to answer. In most situations she could maneuver Ranma to her satisfaction, but controlling how he thought was another matter. Manipulating Ranma's actions and sense of honour was like reading a book as the pages burned; nevertheless, she still had a good fifteen minutes to get to class and wanted to figure this thing out.  
The problem with Ranma was centered on those promises. Cologne had covered her tracks well with them. All other engage- ments had been called off. Both her father and Genma-ojisan had broken their promise together. To complicate it further, Akane had forced them all to follow her wishes, and if Ranma found that out, his response was completely unpredictable, just like it always was with Akane.  
"This would be a lot easier if Ranma wasn't so stuck up on honour," she muttered under her breath. That's where the problem lay. Ranma. His very personality pushed him away from what she wanted and toward what Cologne wanted. If there was just a way to circumvent that, or maybe to get Cologne out of the picture. Next to a lobotomy and a hitman, those were rather impossible items as far as she could tell.  
Maybe if she came at this from a different angle, say through Shampoo. Cologne had to have some sort of vested interest in the girl. Maybe she could arrange a situation where it was more advantageous for Cologne to protect Shampoo than to hold onto Ranma. She filed the possibility away for further consider- ation, mostly because it was the only plausible idea she had come up with after hours of brain-storming.  
Preoccupied by her dilemma, Nabiki barely noticed Ukyou, until the girl was almost on top of her. "What do you need, Ukyou?" Nabiki asked absently.  
"Nabiki, it's Ranma." At the sound of her anguished voice, Nabiki quickly lost her focus and instead concentrated on Ukyou. She noticed the okonomiyaki-chef had been crying recently and was still upset about it.   
"What about Ranma?" Nabiki asked in a tight voice. She had a bad feeling that all her plans were about to come to naught.  
"H-he walked out on me this morning. He was really mad about what had happened. He said he had to talk to some people and figure out exactly what had happened. I tried to stop him, I really did. He didn't want to listen though." Ukyou was crying in desperation and helplessness again, the words tumbling out almost incoherently.  
"Dammit!" Nabiki snapped. "I told you to keep him at your place. Can't you keep Ranma in one place for longer than a night? I know he's stubborn, but he's not that hard to manipulate."  
"I couldn't," Ukyou countered. "He's changed. He's really changed, Nabiki. I don't know what happened to him exactly. He mentioned a few things about fighting for his soul and he carries that statue with him constantly. It's frightening at times."  
Nabiki shook her head. When Ukyou said Ranma was different, she was probably right. The desperation and the hint of fear in the girl's voice removed all other doubts. She didn't know how, but Ranma had obviously found some sort of righteous streak in him. Nabiki shuddered at that one. Ranma was never really focused on one thing except martial arts, and if he had found something in this, he could be nigh unmanageable. She had to get to him before he did something really stupid, like commit seppuku.  
"Where did he go?" Nabiki asked.  
"I-I think he went to Toufu-sensei. He said that Cologne did nothing to save him, that she screwed up the ceremony, but he wanted to talk to Toufu-sensei first. From there, I don't know."  
Nabiki sighed in relief. Toufu would know how to handle Ranma. Now this new information was rather interesting. If Ranma thought Cologne had not done anything to save him, than he must have a good reason why. This revelation opened a whole new can of worms, one that might just help her out.  
Standing up, Nabiki guided Ukyou toward the school. "Don't worry. Toufu-sensei will take care of Ranma. Why don't you tell me everything Ranma told you about Cologne and what he went through." Slowly she dragged the story form Ukyou, and by the time she arrived at class, she was smiling confidently. Things were definitely looking up. Now all she had to do was get Ranma under control.  
  
The pavement was a blur beneath his pounding feet. His breath rattled in his throat in rhythm with the soft slap of his cloth shoes on the road. Sweat rolled from his forehead. Flashing like a glittering diamond in the sun, it splattered to the ground, a few small drops scattering onto the rough grass that ran beside the road and up to the speeding line of trees he watched from the corner of his eye.  
Usually a run like this one would not have phased him, but that was before. Now it was sheer agony to force himself to con- tinue. His muscles protested the strain, his heart was pounding violently in his ears, his side burning in pain. He kept going. He needed to get back into condition, he had to work off his anger, calm himself.  
Running served another purpose, though. For him it was a time to think and try and place some kind of order on his world. It was the same when he performed his katas, but at the moment he did not have access to the dojo, and was uncertain about the family reaction if he went there, so he ran and let the thoughts tumble through his mind like errant children.  
It wasn't helping him much either. His problems were getting deeper every minute he was awake. Each person he talked to heaped just that many more obstacles in his path. From Ukyou he had dis- covered what exactly had happened and the extent of his problems. Of course she had not known specifics, or actually he had not dragged any specifics out of her, but then he had been a little upset at the time. Hell he was still upset, and going to Toufu- sensei had not helped anything.  
Actually, going to Toufu had been a mistake on his part. All of the hope he had had of gaining an answer, or at least a clear path to follow, had been for naught. The first few minutes had dashed his optimism like a ship upon the rocks. Not only did Toufu not refute Ukyou, he had explained that everyone had witnessed, and it had not been forced, like he had secretly hoped. The situation was not bad, it was ugly, very ugly.  
On top of the witnessing, the old bat had made the condi- tions under which they were administered ironclad. She had forced his family to give them without stipulation, without expecting anything in return. In short, she would only have attempted to save him once the oaths were given, and whether she saved him or not was never questioned. The hag had used his family, played them like a fiddle, and that sent his blood racing in his ears.   
She had used his family to get at him. Worse than that, Ranma was certain that she had been toying with their affection and concern for him in order to hurt them even more when he actually died. As far as he was concerned, she had never intended to save his life. If she had, she would not have used Boukyaku to do her dirty work.  
He couldn't prove it, but he didn't need proof. He had been in that statue. He had fought for his life. He had watched the final step of the cure take effect and do absolutely nothing. If she had saved him, then Akane would cook a delicious dinner for him. Cologne had done nothing to save him. Xian Lin had stood in front of him, held off Boukyaku as he was thrown back into his body because of Toufu-sensei. That didn't matter though. Cologne had still collected her promises and made off like a bandit. And those damn oaths held.  
He swore silently and viciously kicked a low-hanging branch as he passed it. The branch was ripped from the tree by his kick and sent spinning into the ditch beside the road where it came to a rest. Ranma swore again and stopped running, turning back to see the ragged break that was already dripping clear sap. "Stupid! Why'd you do that?" he railed against himself.  
It was useless, ineffective rage, and it scared him. Never before had he blindly struck out like that. If he had been running in the park or a city street, it would have been a dangerous loss of control. It was like last night, it was like this morning with Ukyou, and each time it happened he became more and more certain that he was going to eventually hurt someone.  
This anger was not as intense as the last night, but he still wanted to hit something, anything. It wasn't going away and he needed a way to make it disappear. He only knew of one way, and that was something Xian Lin had taught him. He decided to finish his run later and try and find his wa again. If he could do that, he would be able to begin looking at his problems more objectively without the anger and frustration clouding his judgement.  
Moving from the road into the shade of the trees, he leaned back against one of the rough trunks. Closing his eyes, he tried to meditate like Xian Lin had taught him. Turning inward, he tried to find his wa. He cleared his mind, pushed the outside away and burrowed inward. For a moment he found something, but then it shattered as a truck blasted it's horn as it barreled by his position.   
Shaking his head in annoyance, he tried it again. Clear the mind. There is no emotion. There is no pain. There is peace. There is calm. The mantra repeated again and again. He slowly slipped closer, but a breeze rustled the leaves of the tree, a drop of sweat hit his hand, then a fly bit him.   
Cursing, Ranma slapped the offending creature and the sank back into the tree. "Why is this so hard?" he shouted. It had been so easy with Xian Lin teaching him. How could he do it while surrounded by Boukyaku but not in the safety of his own physical world? Why?  
Impotent rage raced through him like a wild grass fire, sweeping him away with it. He slammed his fist into a stone, shattering it, imbedding small fragments of the rock in his skin. He hated this. He despised being used, being forced. But what could he do?  
He could throw away his honour or more importantly his family's? No, he couldn't do that. Honour was what he had based his life on. It was the one constant standard he could hold himself to, despite what his father had done. His father's actions had not touched him or tainted him until recently, and even then he had held himself above it, trying to find a way out. But there was no way out of this. He did not see a door with an exit sign. He saw a bunch of black pits that all led to ruin for him, those around him, or both.  
From what he understood of Ukyou's rather sketchy account and Toufu's more detailed one, his father and Tendou Soun-san along with Akane had sworn under their family names. It invoked a part of honour that Ranma was not willing to touch much less skirt around like he might do with his personal honour. The very thought of breaking his family's word repulsed him. Everything he had ever been taught bound his loyalty to his family with steel chains and manacles.  
If it had been his own honour, that would have been one thing. If it had been their personal honour, he would have had few qualms ignoring it as long as they approved. This was giri though. For him to flout it was to disgrace his family name, to destroy his own honour, to bring about the deaths of those he loved through ritual suicide.  
This wasn't like with the other engagements. His father's engaging him to Ukyou had been dishonourable in the first place. For Ranma to break it was not a judgement against him, the promise to the Tendou's held prominence and validity over the others. The only judgement would be on his father for making the specious promise in the first place; however, that wasn't the entire story. Included in that were reparations to be made to Ukyou and her family, the loss of honour he incurred from breaking a family promise. On top of this was the shame he might face. He had let the engagement stand even though he had known it was a fallacy. That reflected on his character. Really it had been a no win situation, but for Akane he had done it.   
He was on thinner ice with breaking his engagement to Akane. That had involved giri, untainted by conflicting duties, but he rationalized it by saying that he intended to marry her on his own terms and that it was done to expedite the removal of the other fiancees. The spirit of the promise was kept if not the letter, and so although he personally lost honour, his family saved face.  
He had done that for love, so that he and Akane would have a chance at the relationship they deserved. Love. It was a strange concept to him. In his training there had been little love between himself and his father, or if there had been, it had been buried like an ancient treasure. His father was the teacher, he was the student. That was a relationship based on respect, obedi- ence, and discipline. If love had entered the picture, Ranma had not realized it or benefited from it.  
If anyone had asked him what love was, he would have just shrugged his shoulders and answered it was something you feel for someone. Other than that definition, he did not know. How was he supposed to? He knew he loved his mother, and that she had loved him, but that was only natural. What good did that do when he couldn't even approach her? How could he tell if he loved someone else?   
With Akane he just assumed what he felt was love. It was simpler than trying to sort out his feelings. When he was around her, everything was more confusing than his literature class, and just as obscure to him. At one moment he wanted to protect her and keep others away from her. The next he was hurting her himself and telling her to stay away.   
Alone within Boukyaku's prison, he had begun to realize how much a part of his life she was becoming. She was like his shadow. When she was there it was easy to ignore her and let things run, but when she disappeared there was an incompleteness, an emptiness inside him. What would happen if he let her go forever?  
The crux of the situation was that he wasn't sure if she even cared for him, or if she did care for him, how much did she care? If he was to believe Ukyou and Toufu, Akane had given him up to save his life. Did that mean she cared for him? Or was it simply that she did not want his death on her hands? Or had she been persuaded by his father? He seriously doubted it was like that. Before his world had crumbled around him like an ancient monument, they had been happy together. They had been exploring something that both of them had wanted to try, a relationship. But where did that relationship stand in the larger scheme?  
There were so many unanswered questions that were pulling at him. He felt like a doll caught between squabbling siblings, and he hated it. If he went with his honour, he might hurt Akane. If he broke his honour, he'd be disgraced, and maybe Akane did not want him in the first place. Was love that much more important than honour? Hadn't he lived without it his entire life? What did it matter if he just followed the only concept he had ever fully understood? Because it felt wrong.   
Could he do this for love, though? Was he willing to give everything up for the person who meant everything to him? His heart told him yes, but his mind, his training, his very essence screamed in horror at the thought of what he contemplated. It would almost be easier to commit seppuku.  
He shook his head violently as the thought entered his mind. That was one place he would not go. It had not helped in the first place with Akane, and it would not help now. For him it would only be a fancier name for running away, and he refused to do that. Seppuku was not meant to be used to escape problems. It was a way to gain back honour. It was a way to atone for failure, but sokotsu-shi was not an option open to him. Funshi was a probable course, but he did not wish to have his death only be a cry against what had been forced on him.   
Compounding this was the fact that he was not a samurai of old or a follower of bushidou. He understood the tenets of bushidou, but he was not willing to make a resolution to die above all else in life. For him the ultimate goal was his martial arts, nothing else had ever mattered, until now. But could he give up his love for honour, or vice versa?  
Just because he did not follow bushidou, did not mean he did not have honour. His honour was that of a warrior, that of a dutiful son. It was a sense of honour that had been ingrained first by a mother he barely remembered, and then a father who, though with a perverted sense of honour, had drilled it into him.  
Also, because he did not follow bushidou, he was not forced upon the single goal of dying to the exclusion of all else. He was human, and he wanted to have a life that was his own. Someday he wanted a family. He wanted a dojo in which he could train students and his own children. But with either of the choices he now had, he lost one of them forever.  
There was an old proverb that stated that the choice between love and honour is never an easy one. As far as Ranma was concerned there could be nothing more truthful than that. With either choice, he lost something that he cared deeply about. For Ranma, it was turning into a choice between cutting out his heart or blowing his brains out with a revolver when he didn't want to die in the first place.  
If he could just find a way to nullify the oaths, or to make it so Shampoo did not have to marry him. Something sparked in his mind. Something about marriage. His mind told him he was missing the obvious, but he couldn't think about it. He knew it had to do with his current situation, but what was it?   
Screaming in silent frustration he released that avenue of thought, hoping that the answer would turn up some other time. He did not have the time to waste on tracking down errant thoughts, and he doubted it would help him anyway. If he let things go and fester, it would only become harder to make the choice. He had to make a choice, and make one soon.   
Deciding to make a choice was easy, but actually making it was like trying to touch the stars. There were still so many questions. Obligations pulling him one way, emotions the other, and in the middle was his own uncertainty, entrapping and sucking him down like a bog of quicksand. Maybe he would end up as a pawn, but until that time he would be the one in control. It probably would have been easier to stay with Xian Lin, he decided, absently caressing the statue he had brought up with him. At least with her, there had been no confusion and second thoughts.   
He had to answer those questions and place his obligations in perspective. To do this he needed to talk to a few people. Cologne was one, but there was a more important person he had to see. Whatever she thought would decide for him. If she did not want him, if she refused to break her honour for him, then his choice was made; however, if she did want him, then he would try his hardest to make sure everything worked out, no matter what the cost.  
With this choice made, he pushed himself to his feet and began to walk back toward Nerima. His pace steadily increased until he was running, the pavement once again blurring beneath his feet. This was not just about himself. There were other's involved, and though many were important the most important was one with blue-black hair.  
  
The noon sun was beating down on the black tar of the docks, when Mousse finally slipped from his hiding place and made his way to the railing. The Coral Lady was secured tightly to its moorings. Spread out below her were the warehouses and docks that sprawled along the Yokohama Port. Around Mousse the ship bustled in activity as the large cargo hold was emptied onto the waiting trucks below.   
Although it was busy, Mousse could see that most of the workers were preoccupied with their lunch breaks, only the sailors, desperate to get on shore leave, were plugging away with a fury that would have made the hardest naval officer nod in approval. He knew he should wait for nightfall to go ashore. If he left now, he might be noticed, but he had been gone nearly two months on a mission for the wrinkled mummy, and if he left now, he could make Nerima sometime in the early evening. It was worth the risk. Besides he had enough confidence in his martial and misdirection skills to feel confident getting away.  
Pulling a length of cord from inside his white robes, he tied a loose knot around the railing, and with a quick check to see if anyone was watching, he slipped over the side, and rapidly slid down the rope to the surface of the dock. As his feet hit solid ground for the first time in two weeks, he flicked his wrist and quickly coiled and hid the cord back in his robes. After another cursory examination of the docks he slipped into a maze of containers waiting to be loaded on the idling line of trucks.  
It was one of the already loaded trucks that Mousse approached. The drivers were off enjoying themselves, the laborers were still eating lunch, so Mousse easily slipped inside the cargo container unseen. Before closing the container, he glanced back at the Coral Queen. The ship was a massive freighter that he had stowed-away on when it docked in Sydney two weeks ago.   
He still was unsure why Cologne had sent him to Australia. He knew why, but just not why she wanted what he had acquired in the Australian outback. The plant was a strange one. Even the Aborigines had questioned him about whether that was the plant he wanted. He had only nodded and they had shrugged and said nothing else. It was disconcerting, but figuring it out was not important right now. He had other things to worry about, like Ranma.   
It was amazing what the Aborigines had developed to survive in the harsh wilds of Australia. He had been entranced by their abilities and some of their weapons and ways, while searching for Cologne. He had picked up his two guides' abilities with amazing speed. He hoped to be able to use some of those tricks when he faced Ranma again.   
The old hag would be surprised by his new abilities, he was sure of that. The possibility existed that he could finally beat Ranma, especially since the old bat would not know any of the counters to what he had learned. Smiling he watched the rusty hull of the Coral Queen, the dilapidated tower structure. The sailors affectionately called the ship the Coral Hag, but it was not that hag, that Mousse was going to have to face soon. The container door slid shut, blocking out the light of day. Digging a niche for himself, Mousse settled down and waited for the truck to begin its short journey to Tokyo.  
  
  
Author's Notes:  
  
Translations:  
Soo-de su - "That is so"   
  
Wa - "harmony, total" is generally used to refer to spiritual wholeness  
sokotsu-shi - expiatory seppuku as a contrition or atonement for one's imprudent or rash behaviour.   
Funnshi - seppuku which expresses indignation against the way one has been used by elders/superiors.  
Bushidou- "the way of the warrior" all information on bushidou gained from Bushidou: Mode or Ethic?' byRoger T. Ames. An essay in -Japanese Aesthetics and Culture- ed. Nancy G. Hume.  
  
Wakare - "farewell, as a noun means parting"  
Meiyo Ai soshite Nikuskimi - "Honour, Love, and Hate"  
  
I think that covers all the translations. So to my ramblings.  
  
There are almost none. I don't really have anything important to say other than please comment on this. There will probably be a revised version of this coming out since I'm still trying to work the kinks out of both of Ranma's contemplative scenes.  
Well I'm going to go and write some more. I hope you enjoyed this installment. I'm sorry if things are going slow, but that is how I write and I don't want to jump into any action without setting it up first.  
  
Joseph Kohle  
  
----*----*----*----*----*----*----*----*----*----  
All rights and priveleges to Ranma Nibunnoichi   
belong to Rumiko Takahashi. The characters of her   
series are used without her permission for the   
purpose of entertainment only. This work of fic-  
tion is not meant for sale or profit.   
  
All original characters are the creation of the  
author. All copyright privileges to these chara-  
cters are reserved for the author.  
  
This story is a product of the author's hard work   
and imagination. Do not modify, add to, or make   
use of any part of this work without the author's   
knowledge and consent. Please feel free to archive   
this work.   
  
Comments and criticism are welcome.   
Written by Joseph A. Kohle, (c) 1997.   
Send all comments to Ashira@worldnet.att.net  
Find my fanfics at   
http://www.geocities.com/Tokyo/Flats/index.html 


	12. Vol 3 Chap 3

DISCLAIMER: Ranma Nibunnoichi is the property of Takahashi Rumiko, Shogakukan Inc, Shonen Sunday Comics, and Viz Video. It is used without their permission and is not intended for profit but only for the enjoyment of fans of the Ranma series. All characters within this fic that are not the property of the above mentioned are copyrighted to the author, Joseph Kohle, January 1997. This work of fiction is the result of the author's hard work and is for the enjoyment of others. Please do not change, modify, or use any segment of this story without the author's knowing and written consent. Feel free to archive this work.  
  
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Meiyo Ai soshite Nikushimi  
  
A Ranma Nibunnoichi Fanfic  
by Joseph Kohle  
  
Part III: The Golden Apple  
Chapter III: To Whom It Goes  
  
***************************  
  
Settling against the steps leading to Furinkan, Nabiki began rummaging through her bookbag. Pushing aside books, papers, and bundles of photographs, she finally found her lunch and extracted it from the bag. Opening the bento box, she snagged a pork bun and began to nibble on it. She was not really hungry, but she liked to keep her hands occupied while she was thinking.   
It was a habit she had picked up as a child. As a little girl, she had worn her hair long, and would nibble on it when she was lost in thought or worried. Her mother had gotten tired of telling her to stop doing it and took the expedient solution, cut her hair short. Nabiki had stopped nibbling quickly, but instead turned to twirling pencils or tapping her fingers when she was troubled.   
It was something she couldn't control, and so she hid it by keeping her hands occupied in mundane tasks, like writing or doodling on paper while she thought. The pork bun was just another distraction. She did not want people to see she was worried.   
Throughout the morning she had wracked her brain, trying to find a way to help her sister. In her mind, the simplest solution was to make it so Cologne had more interest in avoiding something else than getting Ranma. The only possible something else was Shampoo. Nabiki doubted the Nekohanten was of much importance to the old ghoul, and she would have bet money that the Nekohanten ranked above Mousse. That left her Shampoo and a whole new set of dilemmas.  
Finding a way to threaten Shampoo was not hard; it was finding an acceptable way that was stumping Nabiki. She refused to have anything to do with kidnaping, torture, or killing, whether directly or through a paid thug or four. Although she loved her sister, she knew that there were lines she would never cross. Extortion was one thing, but murder and kidnaping could land her in jail or even get her the death penalty. It was not a risk she was willing to take. But what did that leave her? Not very much, and that was after several hours of plotting.  
"That looks good. Do you have some for me?"  
Startled, Nabiki snapped her head up to see Ranma standing in front of her, a lopsided grin sprawled across his face. Later she would berate herself for allowing Ranma to shock her like that, but at the moment she was unable to connect anything in her mind. After a few moments, though, her agile mind took over again and she snapped at him. "What're you doing here? Baka! If Cologne or Shampoo sees you, you're as good as married. Get out of here. Go back to Ukyou's place."  
"Glad to see you too," Ranma muttered and sat down in front of her. As he sat down, he acquired her bento box. Snag- ging a pork bun, he popped it into his mouth before Nabiki could react.  
"Give me that," she snapped and grabbed the box before he could devour her lunch.   
"C'mon, Nabiki. I'm starving!" Ranma protested.  
"Have you got any money on you?" she asked. Ranma could just imagine her hands rubbing together in glee.  
"No," he admitted, "I'm broke. Heck, I don't even know where my wallet is."  
"Too bad. No money, no food. Ya know, if you had stayed at Ukyou's, you wouldn't have this problem.." Nabiki pointed out sweetly. "Well, it's not my problem."  
"Nabiki, why do you keep telling me to go to Ucchan's?" Ranma asked. "I've been here almost a minute, and you've already suggested it twice."  
"If you can't figure that out, Ranma, then it's useless for me to tell you," Nabiki explained.  
"What? Do you think I'll be safer at Ukyou's?"  
"Ranma, do you have any idea what is going on?" Nabiki asked, boring her eyes into his.  
Squirming, Ranma returned her penetrating gaze. He hated when she did this, and it did not make things any easier for him. He had come to the school to find Akane, but she was not in the schoolyard, so he had naturally gone searching for Nabiki. All he wanted was to find out where Akane was, and now it was apparent that Nabiki fully intended to skin him alive and grill him over a very hot fire. After a moment, he decided he was not going to take Nabiki's abuse. Enough people were abusing him at the moment, and he did not need one more.   
"More of an idea than you, I bet," Ranma snapped indig- nantly. "Listen, I don't need any of this crap. I've got my own problems, and I don't need you piling more on top. So just leave me alone, Nabiki."  
"Oh, I forgot that the great Saotome Ranma doesn't need help," Nabiki stated with a dismissive wave of her hand. She didn't understand why he was being so caustic. Sure he had gone through a lot, but he might at least listen to her and take her advice at face value. How often did she offer free advice like this? Rarely enough to make it apparent that he should pay heed to her. But even if he didn't want her help, she was not about to let Ranma gallop off like a brainless knight and end up running roughshod over her plans and Akane's heart. "Go on, get out of here. Why should you care if you're going to hurt Akane? Run off to Shampoo. I bet that this is what you were waiting for."  
Nabiki watched with satisfaction as her words hit Ranma like a wrecking ball. He visibly winced when she mentioned Akane's name, and then again at her implication about him and Shampoo. Manipulating Ranma was easy for Nabiki. He had only a few weak spots, but if she touched them right, she was always assured of her desired results. His shoulders slump in defeat, and she waited patiently for him to ask for her assistance. She knew he would, sooner or later. He had to. There was no other path open to him.   
To her surprise, Ranma slowly climbed to his feet, and glanced down at her. He looked wretched standing in front of her. From his hang-dog expression and the pain in his eyes, she could tell he was suffering. She knew he was dragging himself through Hell, trying to figure out how to do what was the right thing to do for himself and his family, and failing. "I don't want to hurt her. I never did. But I don't know what to do. Just tell me where she is, and I'll leave you alone." The request was asked in a tired voice. It was a voice Nabiki had never heard escape Ranma's mouth.  
Anyone else would have felt pity for the tormented figure Ranma had become. Nabiki, however, was not moved by Ranma's attitude, nor was she interested in his feelings. Sure, she liked the boy, but in this he had a purpose. Through him, she was going to ruin Cologne's plans and at the same time, as an added bene- fit, relieve the grief of her younger sister. To do this, she needed a tactile Ranma, not this suicidal loose cannon.  
"Ranma," she replied in an even voice, "sit down so we can talk."  
"I'm not interested in talking, Nabiki. At least not to you. I wanna talk to Akane. Now just tell me where she is," Ranma demanded, the fire returning to his voice and eyes.  
"You don't have any money, you have nothing to trade, so if you want to know where Akane is, sit down." There was no leeway in Nabiki's voice as she delivered her ultimatum. A hostile light entered Ranma's face, and Nabiki saw his fist clench. Just when she thought he would stalk off, his left hand came to rest on a small pouch hanging from his belt. As his hand touched the pouch, Ranma closed his eyes and sighed in defeat. Slowly, he lowered himself to the ground.  
"I'm seated," he stated. "Now tell me where Akane is, or I'll just wander around Nerima until I find her."  
"Ranma, Ranma," Nabiki gently chastised, "you should know that sitting down is hardly payment enough for information. It's not like you're a dog, ne?" Ranma was not sure about that. He certainly felt like a trained dog, jumping through his master's hoops.  
"Sure, Nabiki. Not a dog. Just some guy you treat like one," Ranma answered in a monotone voice.  
"Be nice," Nabiki commented. "All I want is for you to do a little thing for me."  
"What's that?"  
"Go back to Ucchan's and stay with her until my business with Cologne is finished."  
Ranma was silent for a moment and then stood up. "I'm not a pawn, Nabiki. Cologne is my problem, and I ain't running from her, especially so you can make some money telling her where I'll be. Forget it, Nabiki. I'll find Akane on my own. Thanks for nothing." He didn't say it, but Nabiki clearly heard 'you bitch' in his voice.   
Incensed at his words, Nabiki almost allowed Ranma to dig himself deeper into his little hole, but then she'd lose her only wild card. As much as she hated to admit it, she needed the bastard. If she could not keep him with Ukyou, then she would chain him in place with Akane.   
"I was just trying to be helpful, Ranma." His look said he believed her as much as Saint Peter believed Ananais. She didn't care. Whether he believed her or not was not important to her plans, she just wanted him where she could find him." Akane was sick this morning and has been for a while. She stayed home, and is probably still there. So if..." She never finished as Ranma made toward the main gate without even a grateful "thanks".  
Slightly offended and annoyed by his attitude, Nabiki still watched him disappear with a sense of victory. She had not culled him, but she had maneuvered him where she could use him. Now if only Akane would keep her wayward fiancee in control for a few hours... She still needed time to figure everything out. She had an idea, but it was risky. Risk was a part of life though, and Nabiki had always taken an adeverse pleaseure from living on the edge.  
  
The house was silent and empty. "Kasumi? Tendou-san? Oyaji?" There was no reply to his calls, only silence. Moving from the living room to the kitchen, he found the same emptiness. This was the first time he had ever come back to an empty house. Usually at least Kasumi or Soun was in the house at any given time. Although it bothered him, he still made his way to the fridge for a small snack. Fixing himself a sandwich, he went back into the dining area to find Akane.   
Akane was sick, at least according to Nabiki she was. Ranma doubted Nabiki would've lied about her sister's condition, especially when she had been so insistent about keeping him under wraps. Why that was, he did not know, and considering the ques- tion had not been important once Nabiki let slip the fact that Akane was home sick. One thing at a time, he decided. Besides, what could Nabiki possibly do for him? It wasn't as if she liked him enough to go and help him out of the blue. She had to have some monetary interest in him staying out of sight. That was the only reason that made sense.  
Passing the low table, a sheet of paper laying on the table drew his attention. Popping the last piece of the sandwich into his mouth, he picked it up. 'Akane,' it read. 'I'm out getting you some medicine. Father is shopping. I left some soup on the stove for you in case you get hungry. Love, Kasumi.'   
Carefully he replaced the note and called out, "Akane?" His voice echoed throughout the house, but there was no answer. His own need to talk with Akane lessened as concern for her began to grow. As far as he knew, she had never fallen ill while he had known her. Sickness was unnerving to him. It was something he had never dealt with in his life. He could not remember a moment of sickness. Injury yes, but not disease. Therefore he was baffled by what he could do. People could be lost in a matter of days to disease. There was no way to fight against it as if it were a new type opponent.  
He wanted to do something for Akane, to protect her, but he did not know how. If she was ill there was nothing he could do, except wait and hope. His eyes fell on the note again, and an idea popped into his head. There was something he could do. Maybe it wasn't going to help in the least, but at least he would not feel like he was helpless. Helpless was the last thing he wanted to feel where Akane was concerned or anyone else for that matter.   
As he decided, his own dilemma was submerged by his new pur- pose. Turning, he returned to the kitchen intent on doing some- thing productive to making Akane feel better. In the back of his mind, a small voice was just telling him he was trying to delay the inevitable, but he was not one to listen closely to that small voice. Smiling a bit, he went about his work.  
Several minutes later, Ranma was stepping off the flight of stairs and silently padding down the hall to Akane's door. In his hands he carefully balanced a tray with two steaming bowls of soup and a tea kettle with two cups. He stopped in front of her door and rearranged the tray before gently rapping on the wood with his free hand. After a few moments with no answer, he pushed the door open and stepped into the room.   
Bright light spilled through the window, flooding the room with a bright glow. Ignoring the painful light, Ranma's eyes found their way to Akane's bed. In spite of the light, Akane was asleep, curled up beneath the sheets, her face turned toward the door presenting her slightly parted lips to him as if expecting a kiss. For a moment, Ranma wanted to accept that invitation. There was a mischievous delight to waking her with a kiss, but confu- sion and doubt about where their relationship was deterred him.  
Instead he pushed aside the alarm clock and stuffed animals on her night table and placed the tray on it. Snagging a nearby chair with his foot, he pulled it close and seated himself next to Akane and watched her. His worry and anxiousness to solve all of his problems tried to cajole him into waking her, but his concern for her was willing to wait for her to awaken.  
There was no time as he watched her, only a sense of con- tentment. He could watch her for hours and never become bored of her face, or tired of the way her hair shimmered in the sunlight, framing her smooth, flawless face. From the small, upturned nose beneath her delicate brows to the well-defined cheek bones that swept down in a graceful arc to her neck and finally to her exposed shoulder, he was enraptured by it all. The rosy blush that coloured her cheeks and her soft breathing only made her more desirable. She was beautiful, angelic in his eyes. There could be nothing more perfect than this young woman before him.  
He wanted to caress her skin, feel the heat in her body as he held her in his arms. If he could only taste of her lips just once, a drug that had haunted his desires and dreams both within the statue and without. When she was within his arms, or just by his side, he felt as if the world was within his hands. There was nothing he could not do, no challenge too large, if it was for her. She completed him.  
Did she feel the same? Undeniably, there was something between them. She had shown genuine concern for him after his failed suicide. He wanted to believe it was because she cared deeply for him, but he also knew that if Ukyou was dying, he would be beside her bed, her hand in his as he spoke of how much he needed her. Was her concern that of a dear friend or a lover? He desperately hoped it was the latter. But how could he be sure?  
Despite what she had done before, the fact remained that she had given him up to Shampoo. But was that because she would rather have him be with Shampoo than die? Or because she just didn't want his death on her conscience? They were the same thoughts that had plagued him since he had returned to the world of the living and did nothing to help the moment.   
He turned his eyes back to Akane's sleeping form. He did not believe that it was possible for him to live without her. He had gone down that route once and never wanted to travel it again. Death was preferable to living without her, more comforting than dealing with the hollow pain.  
The sunlight dancing across her hair and face brought back memories better left covered. He saw her lying silent in the woods, the light a halo around her face. Remembering the dark emptiness that had filled him as he saw her, he could taste the despair that became his life at that moment. It was the same dread sense of loss that had haunted his thoughts and dreams during the week after. Even now he could feel a hand ripping a part of his soul from him at just the thought. Though she slept in front of him, a compulsion drove him to gently brush her face with his hand to assure himself she was real.  
Akane murmured softly at his touch and reached out. As if she were fire, he snatched his hand back from her soft skin. If he continued, he would kiss her and then touch her. He shook his head. Where that thought led scared him. He had never been able to rid himself of the certainty that he had raped her. Even after she had told him differently, the nagging doubt that he had imposed himself on her, that it had been his own desire and not hers that had been acted upon. To even contemplate hurting her in such a way again repulsed him.  
Fearfully, he watched Akane continue to move convulsively, waiting for her to either wake or slip back into slumber. Neither occurred though. Instead her mumbling became louder, and she began to struggle in her sleep. He couldn't understand what she was saying. It was incoherent noise to him, but he knew she was having a bad dream.  
Unconsciously, he leaned toward her. He wanted to take her in his arms and soothe her fears like a mother comforting her child. As his hand was about to touch her, though, a soft sob broke her lips, "No!" Ranma jerked his hand back in surprise and fear. "Please don't leave. No. I'm so lonely. Stay with me!"  
Akane fell silent again and began to mumble once more, her head shaking violently. Ranma was confused and worried. What was she dreaming of? "Ranma!" her voice called out. She reached des- perately toward the ceiling. "Don't leave me. Please don't.." Her voice fell silent with a soft sob as she began to toss and turn.  
There was a snapping sensation within his mind. In the next instant he was kneeling beside her bed, grasping Akane's flailing hand in a firm but gentle grip while his other hand stroked her forehead. "I'm here, Akane. I'm here," he whispered. "I won't ever leave you. Believe me." He spoke the words without thinking. They were from his heart, unclouded by his mind's priorities and debilitating doubts.   
As if an angel had touched her, Akane calmed at his contact. Rolling toward him, Ranma saw her eyes flutter as she pulled his hand tightly against her chest. No words passed his lips as his hand was melded to her own by the warmth of her body. The heat from their contact seared across his nerves like a fire brand. Unable to deal with the emotions intoxicating his blood like a fine wine, he could do nothing except watch as she slowly woke.  
He was gazing into her face when her eyes finally opened. Unfocused hazel orbs mesmerized him as they wandered the room, and then latched onto him. Involuntarily, he sucked in his breath as he saw the joy and love that flooded into his fiancee's face. "Ranma?" Her eyes were questioning, her brow knitted in uncer- tainty, but the love he saw blocked the answer in his throat.  
A palatable silence descended as they both attempted to shuffle through the gamut of feelings flooding their systems. Ranma wanted to embrace her, kiss her, protect her. His impri- sonment had felt like an eternity to him. An eternity without her at his side. Many were the times he would have taken anything from her, even abuse, so long as she was next to him. After all his hardship to reach her again, he was unable to find a single word to express what he wanted to tell her, to express what had unknowingly made his decision for him.  
In silence he watched as the uncertainty and pain dissipate to be replaced by a mixture of hope and fear. Releasing his hand, she reached out and placed her fingers against his cheek. His heart skipped a beat as her delicate fingers traced his skin. Closing his eyes, he pressed his face back against her hand, reveling in the burning sensation her light caress left on his skin. They lit a fire across his nerves that sent his blood boiling and his heart racing but left him floating calmly as if he had found his wa.  
When her fingers slipped from his skin, he felt as if his clothing had fallen from him, baring his body to the harsh ele- ments of nature. A protesting cry rose in his throat but was stopped as Akane found her voice.  
"It's you. I thought... I didn't... I couldn't... Oh, gods, why'd you come back? You shouldn't have. Not with what's going on." As his eyes snapped open at the distress in her voice, he saw the fear flood into her face, but more than that, he heard her words. She hadn't wanted him to return. She didn't love him that way.   
He spoke before he even considered the rest of her words, his broken heart echoing in his voice. "I'm sorry, Akane. I won't bother you again." His decision had been made. The one that felt wrong, but he knew was right. His honour would go untarnished. He climbed to his feet unsteadily. He could feel the grief in the back of his heart, a black wave that would crash over him and drag him under. Turning he took a step, and then spoke again. He forced the words from his mouth, unable to leave things as they were. "I'll always love you, Akane."  
Two more steps and he was reaching for the door that would lock Akane from his life forever when he heard a sob behind him. "Don't!" Ranma's hand was frozen by her cry, his fingers pressing against the cold brass of the doorknob. "Please don't go. I don't care about any of this. I don't care about the promise. We could leave, just the two of us. Don't leave me alone, Ranma. I couldn't stand that. Anything but that."  
She wanted him. His eyes fell to his hand. She was willing to give up everything for him. He saw his fingers touching the knob. She loved him. He realized how close he had come to throw- ing everything away because he had jumped to conclusions. Just like with his failed seppuku, he had allowed his own flaws to carry him, to blind him to reality. What would it take for him to end it? He did not know, but he promised to find a way.   
Turning, he found Akane kneeling on her bed, her upturned face streaked with tears. For an instant Ranma saw the Akane that had wandered the halls of the Tendou household for the last few days. It tore deeply at his heart because he understood that he was somewhat responsible for her present condition. Frail and sickly were the words that flittered through his head. She had the countenance of a anorexic, her skin had lost the luster it had gained in sleep. Pools of bleak loss replaced her eyes.  
"Don't leave me, Ranma. I don't care about honour. Can't you just forget it?"  
Ranma once again answered without thinking. "I can't just give up my honour, Akane." He saw her body start to shake and realized his mistake. "But I can't give you up," he quickly amended. "I can live without honour. I can't live without you, Akane."  
He sighed in relief as her posture relaxed. Relief flooded through her body, and she sank back against the wall. Rubbing her eyes, she brushed aside her tears, but Ranma saw new ones appear a moment later. He went to her then, his inhibitions disappearing freeing him like broken chains.   
Sinking to the bed, he pulled her into his arms, and stroked her silky hair, whispering reassuringly into her ear. "What are we going to do, Ranma?" Akane asked after a few moments. The query was muffled by his chest, but he still heard her.  
Ranma took a few moments to phrase his answer. He had already made two mistakes, and only luck had fixed them for him. He knew now was not the time for more misunderstandings. "I'm gonna do everything I can. I don't wanna break Oyaji's word or yours. There has to be a way. I just don't know what it is."  
"And if there isn't a way?" Akane asked, pulling her head away from his chest. He saw the worry and fear in her eyes, the trails of tears meandering down her cheeks.   
Gently, he wiped away a new tear with his thumb. "That's my problem, not yours," he smiled. "Your problem is getting better," he commented, suddenly remembering that she had stayed home sick. "Do you feel okay? Do you need anything? I brought some soup and tea." He attempted to motion toward the tray and still keep his arms around her.  
"I'm feeling better, Ranma. I'm just tired," she replied, stroking his broad shoulders. Her hands made him shiver as if ice was being run across his skin. "I've just not been feeling very well recently, but I feel like I could take on the world right now." She pushed away from him and glanced up into his face, her voice becoming serious. "As long as you never, ever leave me again. Twice is enough for me."  
Ranma glanced down at her and smiled. "I promise that if I hafta leave, I'll always come back."   
"That's all I wanted to hear." She snuggled back against his chest, and closed her eyes. After a few moments she wrapped her arms around him once more and held him close. "I thought I'd lost you, Ranma. I couldn't take that again. It's too painful. I love you." Ranma simply held her tighter until she fell asleep, her arms wrapped loosely about his body.   
He soaked in the warmth of her embrace as if it were a steaming hot bath. It was intoxicating, reassuring. As his body relaxed, his mind began to wander. His life was changing too fast for him to take it in stride. A month ago he would have never even considered Akane being in his arms a possibility, and often the fantasy of it was banished and beaten down like an unwanted relative.   
In a way he had accepted her as a part of his life before his act. Even now it was still an act. It had not been making love. It had not been sex. To him it was still rape, but he could not bring himself to think, much less utter, the word, and that hurt him because he knew she was not part of his life any- more, she had become his life.  
The revelation terrified him. The thought that he was willing to give up everything for this young woman mystified him. Only his martial arts had ever had a hold on him like the one Akane held. It was not just his life he was willing to give. In his eyes, his life was a small price. It was the Way of the Warrior. He was a martial artist in the strictest sense of the word. His abilities were not meant for competition but survival and battle. As such he had always known that upon waking one day he would never see the sunrise of the next.  
The fleetingness of life, the impermanence of all things had been a part of his life forever. Now he had found something that he did not want to be a morning sunrise but the star filled hea- vens. He was willing to go beyond giving his life to have the stars shine above him for his entire life. He was casting aside his dreams of the future, his honour, and maybe his family. It was a high price. Was he willing to take that risk and pay it?   
Encircled in her arms, it was easy to answer yes. But when he was an old man and she had passed to the next world would the same hold true? He did not know. His presentience was woefully inadequate to catch a glimmering of that future. His mind was grounded in the here, not the there. Here, he knew he wanted her. So here he would do everything to keep her, even push aside his family.  
With a decision made, he thought his heart would be lighter, but it was not. Instead it lay within his chest like a lump of lead. What he was going to do rattled his confidence, horrified his senses, but it had to be done, or he hurt Akane and ruined the one thing that brought him joy, happiness, and love.  
His eyes traveled down to her face. She had snuggled closer to him while he had traveled the neglected paths of his mind, resting her head against his neck and shoulder, filling his senses with the sweet scent of her hair. Disentangling himself from her arms, he gently laid her back on the bed. Covering her with the blankets, he pressed his lips against her forehead. "I'll be back soon. I've got some things to take care of." Akane only smiled and curled around one of her stuffed pigs. Ranma left her like that, the smile on his lips mocking the heavy but deter- mined heart in his chest. The old hag was going to have an unex- pected visitor, an angry one.  
  
"Hey, Ranma!" The saultation halted Ranma. Swiveling his head to glance behind him, he groaned to himself as he saw Nabiki walking toward him like a succubus. She had a smile on her lips and a bounce in her step, but he knew in his gut that behind her sparkling eyes her mind was whirling, devising ways to exploit him. In his mind there was no other side to her. She had used him so many times that he had started hiding from her like a small forest creature at the approach of the fox. He was in the open though, and so he bowed to his fate and allowed her to catch up with him.  
"What are you doing here, Nabiki?" Ranma demanded as she reached him. He did not even attempt to mask the annoyance in his voice.  
"I could ask the same thing of you, Ranma-kun. I would've suspected you'd still be by Akane's side, since she is sick." She emphasized the last word. "But if you don't care for her.."  
"I was just there. She's sleeping."   
"So what are you doing out here? Leaving Akane when she's in trouble? That's not like you, Ranma."  
"She's sick, Nabiki. What am I s'posed to do? Challenge her cold to a duel?" He was trying to avoid her question. He was not interested in having his intentions spread throughout Nerima and the surrounding wards before he had taken two steps. What he wanted to do was just leap to a rooftop and scamper away, but he was still uncertain about his strength and did not want to put undue strees on his recovery.  
Nabiki latched onto his arm, and unobtrusively maneuvered him down the crowded street. Startled, Ranma allowed himself to be led. His mind was trying to find a plausible reason for Co- logne to release him from the promises. He doubted there was one and suspected it would either come down to a fight, which he would lose, or him just walking out on her and be damned with everything. Neither was very appealing.  
"So where are you going, Ranma? If it wasn't anywhere special, you could always get me a free okonomiyaki from Ukyou, and I could take a little off your debts."   
A howl of frustration echoed in Ranma's head. If it wasn't his own problems, Nabiki was back on his case, trying to get him to do what she wanted. "Nabiki, I told you at school that I'm not going back to Ucchan's. I've gotta figure this out, and it is none of your business how I do it!" He yanked his arm from her grasp and stomped away from her.  
Annoyed and angry at Ranma's attitude and tone, Nabiki grabbed his arm and pulled him back so he was looking down into her eyes. For the first time in his life, Ranma realized he was taller than Nabiki. She manipulated and used him so much that, like an abused child, he had accepted it meekly, feeling small and insignificant in her shadow, but now the roles had been reversed. For some inexplicable reason he found himself feeling as if he were the superior and she the supplicant.   
He took in the incensed expression on her face, the anger in her eyes. He was phasing her, causing her trouble, and for some reason he enjoyed it. "I told you to leave me alone."   
"No!" Nabiki snapped. She had seen the confidence glowing in his eyes and was frightened and thrilled by it. No one had stood up to her for so long that she did not know how to act, but she relished the challenge. "You're going to listen to me, Saotome Ranma. I don't care if you don't want to. You're going to, or else I'll make your life a living hell!" This idiot was going to ruin everything that had been going for her, everything that might have saved his pathetic hide. She could see that in his eyes, the way he held himself. He was not about to be culled, but she would definitely try to beat him into submission, if not for her sister's sake, then because she would not be beaten.  
To her surprise, Ranma started laughing. Laughing. He was laughing at her. She lost control as his mockery washed over her. "What do you think is so funny, Saotome?"  
Ranma was unable to help himself as his laughter bubbled forth. Here Nabiki was, commanding him, and she had nothing to place her own two feet on. "H-how can you make my life more of a hell than it already is?" he finally managed to get out as his laughter died down. His tone quickly became more serious, though. "Do you honestly think you can do anything worse than what Colog- ne and my curse and my father and my fiancees and everyone else has done to me? I doubt it, but I'm gonna go fix a few of those things. So, if you don't mind, I've gotta go have a little chat with Cologne."   
The shock and surprise on Nabiki's face was worth having exposed his plans to her. It was a face he would remember with fondness for a long time, despite what would happen next. At that moment he felt a moment of elation at having beat Nabiki at one of her games. Being used enraged him, and Nabiki's successes over the past year and a half had grated on his nerves for too long.   
Satisfied as a gorged lion, Ranma turned from the still dumbstruck Nabiki and began to walk away. He had traversed nearly a dozen paces when Nabiki's cry halted him. "Ranma! Don't do this. Don't hurt Akane like this. She doesn't deserve it." Ranma was halted in his tracks by the words unable to move.  
Nabiki had listened to Ranma speak. His words left her speechless. With his rude actions earlier and the trouble he had put her through, she was slowly losing her control. But it was more than that. There was something different about Ranma that she could not put her finger on. It had been there at lunch and it was in him now. She could remember Ukyou's words earlier that day. "I couldn't," Ukyou had said in desperation. "He's changed. He's really changed, Nabiki. I don't know what happened to him exactly. He mentioned a few things about fighting for his soul and he carries that statue with him constantly. It's frightening at times."  
As she glanced at him, she saw instantly what Ukyou had meant. Ranma was holding himself straight, a burning determina- tion in his eyes. Gone was the vivacious innocence that had marked him as Ranma. In its place was a deep sadness and regret that made her want to cry. They reminded her of the eyes of a child that had just been forced to give up his blankie. Akane. It was the only blankie Ranma could ever lose. What he had decided was obvious to her. He had decided to give up Akane for his oh- so-precious honour.  
The realization incensed her. How dare he was her first thought. She had immersed herself in helping him because she hated seeing her sister hurt. She had shouldered the burden of outsmarting Cologne because the Amazon had hurt her sister and her family. Of course she had masked this by saying that she only wanted the challenge, the thrill of facing a real opponent. She just did not want to admit her feelings, since, once one slipped out, like a small drip turns into a leak and then a flood, her bottled up emotions would crash through her. But now she could not put that mask in front of her actions.   
Now all she could think was what Akane was going to do. How would she take this? How could Ranma hurt Akane? She would not let him hurt her sister. She did not care if she had to come right out and help him, but she was not going to watch Akane slowly slip away because of grief. The last few days had been horrid, but months, maybe years like that? No, she would never allow that to happen. So she called out to him, shouted at him, forced him to stop.  
Now he was staring at her in shock, his eyes burning with hurt and surprise, and beneath it all almost mirth. Then his face became placating as he walked toward her. "Nabiki," he started as he laid his strong hand on her shoulder.   
She shook his touch off and retorted before he could com- plete the thought. "Don't say anything. You'll listen to me. I'm not going to let you hurt Akane. I don't care about what you think is right. You're going to do what I want you to do, or else."  
"But, Nabiki..."  
Nabiki charged on ignoring him. "Do you have any idea what you mean to my sister? You haven't seen her for the past week. She's been a wreck, an absolute wreck." The words flowed like water from her lips, cascading from the well-spring of her hate and anger, her frustration. She had lost control of her emotions for the first time in many years, and the feeling was one of orgasmic release. "Cologne did this. She contrived everything. By your own mouth, you admitted she was trying to kill you, yet you must go to her and save your precious honour. How can you even contemplate such a thing?"  
"I-"  
"Shut up! I don't care what you think. I don't care if you think. From now on I think for you, and you do what I want. I will not let you destroy my sister's life. And I definitely won't allow you to do it by going to that Amazon bitch. Do you have any clue what she has put us through? The uncertainty, the heart- break, the agony? I hate her for what she's done to Akane and my family. My family, Saotome. No one hurts my family and gets away from it. If you so much as even think about agreeing with her, about turning away from my sister, I'll..I'll..."   
"You'll what?"  
An evil glint lit her eye as an idea entered her mind. "Tell your mother a little secret, Ranko."   
Ranma regarded her with a cold gaze. Unable to fathom what had brought on this outburst, Ranma went with his gut feeling. He distrusted her. He might like her and was even fond of her, but trusting her was as foolhardy as eating Akane's cooking. He did not know what her game was. Whether she was truly interested in helping him or worried over Akane's well-being was of no concern to him. He had decided on his course and he would finish it. Ten- dou Nabiki played no role in the drama between him and Cologne.  
More than anything he smiled inwardly at her threat. Nor- mally, such a threat would have been met with instant submissive- ness on his part, but the truth was that it did not matter anymore. By forsaking the promises and the giri of his family, he was already putting his mother beyond him for the rest of his life. He was giving up his family for Akane. He knew that, there was no denying it. Still he would not let her get away with her threat.  
"Tell her what you want, Nabiki. I don't care anymore. Just leave me alone. I've gotta few things to do. It's none of your damn business."  
"You're going to hurt my sister, that makes it my damn business, Saotome!" Several people walking by cast a few glances at Nabiki as they heard her outburst. No one stopped though. It was not their business and would probably only lead to trouble.  
Anger flared in Ranma. Nabiki took a step back as she saw the sudden rage in Ranma. "I'm not going to hurt your sister. So leave me alone." He punctuated each word violently and took a step forward on the last.  
Nabiki bolstered her courage and stood her ground. She did not believe a word he was saying. She knew Ranma too well, and this Ranma, no matter what he had gone through, was still one who lived honour. Besides that, she also knew that Ranma had no qualms about lying to her to avoid unpleasantness. "You're lying." She flung the accusation boldly. "I know you, and I won't let you do something stupid. I'm staying by your side until this is over to my satisfaction. You've caused me enough grief with your stupidity as it is."  
"You know me?" Ranma laughed. "No one knows me, Nabiki, and I'm not gonna hurt Akane. Get over it. I don't need your help, and that is final." Nabiki only glared at him fiercely. He wanted to turn away, but he couldn't make himself do it. She would just follow him and make his duty harder.   
Nothing short of drastic would budge her. Hitting her entered his thoughts, but he pushed it away. Even if she deserved a good slap, Ranma could never bring himself to hit Nabiki. She was not able to phsically defend herself. On top of this was his aversion to physically striking women. With a sinking heart he realized she had won. There was nothing he could do to stop her. But if she was that determined to follow him, he would at least correct her misguided conclusions.  
Turning he took a few steps and waited for her to realize he wanted her to follow him. As he heard her footsteps, Ranma continued walking, ignoring Nabiki's presence. He wanted some privacy before he spoke with her, and some time to sort out his chaotic thoughts.   
Xian Lin had taught him more than controlling his ki. He had learned and seen the advantage of actually thinking before he acted. He really didn't particularly enjoy it, mostly because it only created more headaches and problems than acting on his first impulse had ever done. The stakes of his current crisis were too large for him to screw it up however, so he thought and pondered and tried to muddle his way through it.   
He could already see where he had made his mistake with Nabiki. He should have just told her right off what he was doing, but no, he had tried to be slick and get back at her for every- thing she had done to him. So now he was in this untenable situ- ation and very much doubted he could extract himself from it without giving away too much.  
He had to get her trust him. Nabiki had to understand that he cared for Akane and was not going to hurt her, but how? There was one way he knew of, but it was a frightening thought. He had told no one about what had happened between Akane and himself, but it would prove how much he cared for her. Could he trust her with that kind of information, though?   
Glancing back at her, he caught a brief glimpse of a worried face before Nabiki noticed him watching and donned one of her cold masks. Her words gave the impression that she was worried, but it could have been act. But what would she possibly gain from any of this? There was no profit in it other than losing him as a model for her pictures. He doubted the few thousand she scrounged out of him a month were worth that kind of act; therefore, it was either genuine concern or he was missing something. He doubted the latter and the former was too substantiated by her words and actions to be dismissed like an annoying fly.   
He glanced back once more and saw her lost in thought. He made his decision. For good or ill, he decided that it was in his best interest, and it might just give him the insight he needed to break the promises without tarnishing his honour. Unconscious- ly, he began to guide them toward the park and privacy.  
  
The cessation of movement and the sudden stillness that permeated the surroundings woke Mousse from his half-sleep. Warily taking in his position, he realized the engine was no longer running. That either meant the driver was making a pit stop or they were in Tokyo. Since they had left after noon, and it was only an hour to Tokyo, he decided it was the latter.  
Deciding it was the latter left him with a whole new set of problems though. He had to escape the trailer without getting caught. Overall this did not bother him, since he was a martial artist and could easily vanish or outfight anyone who might try and stop him. That was once he was outside though. Since he was inside, he had no clue where he was other than someplace in Tokyo. For all he knew, the truck could be parked in some sort of warehouse or just as easily parked in a large lot waiting to be unloaded.   
Whichever it was would determine his course of action, but he did not have the ability or the time to figure that out. Lost in thought, he missed the click of the door opening, but he saw it start to open outward. With only a moment to act, he decided on the simplest action.   
With the sound of a tiptoeing mouse, he streaked from his sitting position toward the lengthening crack of light in the door. Suddenly a shadow appeared before him and there was a surprised shout as he vaulted over the man and into the warm sunlight of the spring afternoon.   
Behind him he heard angry muttering and several people yelling at others to catch him. Mousse decided it was time to make his abilities as a magician known. With a flourish, he produced several eggs from his sleeve and dispersed them around him. There was a puff of billowing smoke, and he used the distraction to leap to the top of some nearby crates and speed away from the warehouse. Behind him the angry shouts of the workers and guards faded and finally disappeared as the bustling traffic of Tokyo engulfed him.  
For several minutes, he continued his headlong flight, but finally he slowed and stopped as he realized he was as lost as Ryouga. Unlike Ryouga though, he was able to determine his position by descending into a subway and checking one of the route maps.   
As his luck, or lack there of, would have it, he had taken to flight in the wrong direction. Nerima was on the opposite side of Tokyo from him, a good long ride. Glancing at the subway counters and then checking his money, he decided it would be safer taking the subway. If nothing else it would reduce his chance of being hit by water. On cue someone threw a half-full soda at him. Screeching in fright he barely ducked it, before the super-sized McDonald's cup smashed into a trash can, spraying a dark liquid over the ground and waste receptacle.  
Mousse decided the subway was his safest bet, especially if he wanted Cologne to get her root. Quickly, he went to purchase a token and then boarded the train moments before it left. Thirty minutes later, Mousse was enjoying the sunlit streets of Nerima. The sound of children laughing as they played with toy mecha in a vacant lot filled the air. The sharp scent of sizzling meat and vegetables from a home wafted on the wind and then a woman's voice calling her family to dinner. The laughing turned to ecstatic shouts, and the children scurried off, leaving their forgotten toys behind.  
Mousse smiled a little and walked on. He sometimes wondered if he would ever have a family. For the past fourteen years of his life, he had chased after Shampoo. She had never shown an interest in him, but she had never forced him away. At least she hadn't until she came to Nerima. Even that did not deter him, and he someday hoped that Shampoo would simply realize that Ranma did not love her, and probably only tolerated her. Shampoo, however, had always been single-minded and stubborn as an ox. Not that he minded, but it was vexing at times.  
Even his melancholy thoughts could not keep him down. He had been two months without hearing her sweet voice, without seeing her lovely face, without the sweet fragrance of lilacs that always hung about her silky hair. To him that was a worse torture than the Death of a Thousand. Only the loss of his Shampoo to one like Ranma could be worse than being separated from her.  
Banishing those thoughts, Mousse continued on his way. Rounding a corner he could make out the Ucchan in the distance. That meant he was only a few blocks from the Nekohaten and the presence of his guiding light. Unconsciously he picked up his pace and only a few minutes later, he was rounding the corner and could see the Nekohaten's sign moving sluggishly in the breeze, only a few doors down from him. His step light and airy, he walked to it and entered into the nearly empty dining area.  
That did not bother him though. It was only five in the evening and the dinner rush never began until at least six, usu- ally a quarter after. Bypassing the one lone customer, he popped his head into the kitchen and saw the slightly blurred form of Shampoo preparing for the dinner rush. His heart burst with joy at the sight of her, and he threw himself forward.  
"Shampoo!" he cried out as he grabbed her in a fierce hug. "After two long months, I've returned to give you my love. I won't leave you again my dearest..." He was silenced as Shampoo decked him, knocking him into a pile of dirty dishes. There was a cacophonous clanging as several dozen pots and pans crashed around him.  
"Mousse no baka!" Shampoo shouted. "Shampoo not Mousse's Shampoo never be Mousse's. Shampoo is Ranma's."  
"My love, do you not see that Ranma is simply stringing you along? His love is as nonexistent as a small spring next to the mighty Pacific that is my love for you."  
"Stupid Mousse not see," Shampoo retorted as she flung a bowl at him knocking his glasses off and sending the world into a fuzzy haze of colours and wobbly shapes. "Husband promised to Shampoo now. Shampoo and Ranma marry," Shampoo declared emphatically. "Once Shampoo find where Ranma hide" she added as an afterthought.  
Mousse's mind blanked out her last statement. All he could think about was her declaration. Ranma had been promised to Shampoo. Ranma had won her. Ranma had defeated him for her love. "No!" The scream ripped from his throat in an anguished howl as he leapt to his feet. "You're mine," he screamed in Mandarin. "I've always loved you, I always will. I've suffered through the eternal torments of Shiva to try and gain your love, Shan-pu. I will not allow this!"  
"Mu-tsu! Shan-pu defeated you in battle. By law, you may not touch her. Ranma has defeated her and so can claim his place as his husband. His father has promised him to my great-granddaugh- ter, and he has also annulled all other engagements. Shan-pu is now the bride of Ranma." The old crone began to hop out of the kitchen and then turned back to the shell-shocked Mousse. Mousse only saw a wrinkled blur through eyes that were slowly filling with tears. "Welcome back, Mu-tsu."  
With an inarticulate howl of rage, Mousse stumbled past the ghoul and ran out into the street, his voice raising in a blood- thirsty cry of vengeance. "You will die, Saotome!"   
Behind him, Cologne watched the berserk Mousse disappear down the street. She doubted Mousse was going to last long against Ranma, and maybe she might discover something new about his abilities. She did not follow though, there was no need. Mousse had sunk well beneath Ranma's skills despite fighting him constantly. She knew that Ranma went easy on almost everyone except her, Ryouga, and Happousai.  
"Great-grandmother?"  
Cologne did not answer, but she did not tell the girl to leave either.  
"Shan-pu wants to know if Mu-tsu will be fine. It would be a pity if he was seriously hurt. You know how he gets when he becomes desperate about something." She spoke in Mandarin to keep the people from understanding her.  
"Why should you care for a weak man like Mu-tsu, Great- granddaughter? He is unworthy to lick the boots of an Amazon, much less marry one. He is a disgrace to the tribe and should have been exiled years ago."  
Shampoo dropped her head in shame. She just could not help but worry about Mousse. Despite his affections toward her, he was one of her few friends and a link to her childhood. In her own way she cared for him enough that she did not want to see him hurt. Ranma might do something serious to him, especially when Mousse was not about to give in easily on account of his rage. "Ranma could get in trouble if Mu-tsu is hurt seriously, Great- grandmother. That is all Shan-pu is worried about."  
"Not to worry, child," Cologne assured the girl. "Son-in- law is not going to hurt Mu-tsu. He is just going to teach him a lesson." Shampoo shuffled off in dejection, leaving Cologne alone. She watched the now crowding street. Suddenly, a thought entered her head. She had forgotten to get the root from Mousse. She was almost tempted to go after him, but decided against it. He would probably come flying back through the roof any time.  
  
Nabiki followed Ranma in a half daze. The words "I lost contro" kept flitting through her mind in accusation. Ranma, Cologne, and her sister had actually broken through her defenses and dragged a response from her. To have that be in retaliation to Ranma's actions and words made the misstep that much more difficult to bear. That very morning, she had ripped into Taka- nari with the efficiency of a stalking tiger. Now she felt as helpless as a child still on his mother's milk. It was degrading and humiliating. What had happened to her? How could her emo- tions, the dark she kept bottled within her, erupt like that?   
She never admitted that she had feelings for anyone. Al- though she hated when someone hurt her family, they were _her_ family. They were her life. She did everything she could for them. That was her reason. That was the reason she did every- thing. Hadn't she been through harder tests with her family than this? Was her sister's happiness so important to her that Ranma could push her over the edge?   
Yes. She wanted to scream and shout and deny it, but to deny the truth once it had cast its light upon the mind was to flirt madness.  
She had lost control. Her emotions had overrun her lines, flanked her and overwhelmed her battered defenses. Why? Because she could not stand to see her sister hurt. But why? The question nagged at her, forced her to look at it although she wanted to cower within her bed.  
She glanced up and saw Ranma watching her, a cold rage suddenly filled her. It had to be his fault. Her life had been a simple game of go before he had arrived. Now she was playing a master of shogi and losing because she did not know the rules of the game. Every time she saw Ranma, a different emotion fixated her mind. The tall figure, the cut of his shoulders, the wiry muscles and fluid grace made him temptation incarnate. His gullible and innocent nature made him easy to use. His problems and fiancees gave her ample ammo. But when he teased Akane or let his tongue run loose around her, a dark anger built within her. She hated him and just used him and manipulated him too exact revenge for her sister. But when he turned around and protected her sister, made her happy, Nabiki had to relent. Then she would feel guilty about her machinations against him, but inevitably, he'd do something stupid and start the cycle once again.  
Why did he affect her so? Because he affected Akane. The answer was simple, straightforward. It was also deadly. The thought intruded that she was living vicariously through her sister. She quashed the thought without a second thought. For her to live vicariously was an impossibility. She had a life outside her family. Sure it wasn't emotionally satisfying, but it had its appeal. Yet the idea that she was looking for more and had found that in her sister intruded once again.  
Shaking her head, she dropped the line of thought. It was only causing her grief. She had lost control. That was all. It had been a slip. Too much pressure at home. Her senior exams coming up in a few months. The recent deadline on bills and repair payments. It had just unhinged her. There was no other possible reason.   
Sure she was angry at Cologne, but it was a matter of family love and honour. The woman had disrupted their lives and attacked family members, or at least prospective family members. As such she deserved to be dealt with, and that was why she was so interested in keeping Ranma at the Tendou home. She admitted that it would make her sister feel better and be happier, but who wouldn't want to help her own sister?  
She was doing it for her sister because she was family. There was no other answer. She closed the book on the discussion, and locked it tightly away within her mind. That was a weakness, and Tendou Nabiki did not have any weaknesses, even imaginary ones. But the nagging suspicion had planted a seed in her mind, and as all seeds will, it settled and began to spread its roots in fertile soil.  
Nabiki raised her eyes to Ranma and the world around her. They were entering the park. Only a few people were walking about. It was still too early for the day's workers to trudge home from their jobs, and most children were either entrapped in activities or schoolwork. They had the park to themselves, and Nabiki realized Ranma had wanted it that way.  
Although she would never admit, she was beginning to feel uncomfortable walking a few steps behind Ranma. It was not fear but discomfiture with the whole situation, with Ranma in parti- cular. Why that was she did not know. The way he walked, his steps measured and rigid instead of his usual carefree grace, the quiet and distant appearance he had effected disturbed her. She was unable to shake Ukyou's inadvertent warning. This was not Ranma she was dealing with.   
When he had walked away, Ranma had given her no choice but to follow. Follow or lose, the choice had been easy. Losing was an alien concept to her. Even when she made wagers, she came out ahead by taking percentages and rigging the odds slightly. Stupidity was one thing she had never been accused of, and she made sure she never would by always giving herself a safety net.  
She was walking a tightrope without a safety net though, and it was because of this new attitude he sported. She had seen a glimpse of it in his face. Although she saw emotion, it never connected with what he said. Anger in his voice would mock brooding and melancholy eyes. It simply disturbed her.   
When he finally slowed and settled against a tree, Nabiki almost breathed a sigh of relief. She felt like she was in the Twilight Zone and everything was about to be explained.   
"Why don't you trust me?" Ranma asked as Nabiki took a seat across from him.  
Nabiki was startled by the question. It had been the last thing she had expected Ranma to say, but she answer it automatically. "Trust doesn't make money."  
"Always money," he said softly. "Always honour. It ain't ever about someone else or maybe just yourself. Always something else driving you." Nabiki knew he was talking to her, but she was unable to shake the feeling that she was not in his thoughts as he spoke.  
"Of course, Ranma. Can I trust people to just pay me? Can I gain money on faith? The world doesn't work that way, kiddo. So why should I believe you?"  
"Why didn't you ever ask me about what put me in the hos- pital?" He was still not looking at her, but she felt as if he was undressing her.  
"I didn't have the time. This all happened so fast."   
"You had nearly a week, maybe more. Yet you didn't do any- thing. It's not like that story we cooked up was very good. Face it, that story sucked, and I knew it. Every minute, I kept expec- ting you to figure it out and suck me dry, but you never did."  
"I don't know why I didn't. It just wasn't..." She was frus- trated. She had wanted to find out. For days she had pondered over the incident, unable to find a way inside Ranma and Akane's defenses. They just did not talk about it, and no one else had had a clue about it. Now he was carelessly throwing it out like a tasty morsel on a hook. She saw the hook, but her hunger for it was unbearable. He had whetted her appetite, aroused her curio- sity. All the previous frustration and unanswered questions had returned at his words. Whether he knew it or not, Ranma had caught her.  
"Do you want to know?" She couldn't help herself. The one thing she hated was an unanswered question, the next was being in the dark. In this situation, Ranma had her in both and it was driving her crazy. She bit down on the bait as he sank the hook.  
"What do you want?"  
Ranma was silent for a moment, then he lifted his face and gazed directly at her. Ranma examined Nabiki. He knew he had her. The eager light in her eyes, that Ranma doubted she even realized was there, the way she leaned forward expectantly told him he had hooked her. What did he want though? He wanted Akane. So he needed a way out, and Nabiki could help him find one or make one. This information would be the price for her help, and her silence about what he was going to tell her. "I want your silence. You'll never tell another person what I tell you." Nabiki started to nod in acceptance. "And you'll help me on my conditions, not yours, and it won't be your agenda either," he finished.   
Nabiki's head halted in mid-nod, chagrin filling her face. At first Ranma thought she was going to refuse, but after a few moments she mumbled her acceptance. Sighing in relief, Ranma closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Slowly, but with growing confidence, he began to relate to Nabiki the events that had lead to his hospitalization.  
As he told the tale, he carefully scrutinized Nabiki's face, watching as it went from casual acceptance of his attempted suicide to shock when he told how he had been with Akane. But even that had faded to a stony-faced No-drama mask by the time his tale ended with what had happened in the hospital room.  
Silence descended on them as the last syllable passed his lips. The wind sighing through the new leaves on the trees could be heard as clearly as a brazen fanfare of brass. The melodious song of a bird flitted through the air, to be followed by the angry chattering of a squirrel. The world around them lived, but between them both existed nothingness. No speech, no thought, they simply watched each other. It was anti-climatic compared to the terror and elation that had come from forcing himself to admit his failure and thereby beat Nabiki. But this silence disturbed him, and he was frustrated by his inability to break the spell.  
"Why did you tell me?" Nabiki's voice, though a whisper, slammed into him with the force of a typhoon, unhinging his already frayed mind, shattering the peace.  
"I-I needed you to trust me. I-I needed," his voice faltered and then he found it again, "I need help."  
Leaning forward, Nabiki gazed at him speculatively. Ranma barely suppressed the shudder that ran through his body at her look. As clearly as the temple bells tolling through the morning air, he could hear the gears turning in her devious mind. The certainty that she was going to use him sent a rush of fear-in- duced adrenaline through his blood.   
Nabiki, however, was unable to consider using Ranma at the moment. To say she was in shock from his disclosure was to imply that she was mildly fond of money. Even in her wildest dreams she had never imagined something comparable to Ranma's story. If she had known about it a few weeks ago, she would have been rolling in money from not only Ranma but Kunou, Shampoo, Ukyou, and maybe Kodachi and Ryouga, and that was not even tallying the rumors she could have 'sold' at school. Now, though, she was clamped by the promise Ranma had extracted from her, and by the realization of the lengths Ranma was willing to go to protect Akane.  
He told her the story because he wanted help, needed help. Ranma had told her despite what he knew she might do with the information. What had caused Ranma to risk trusting her? She was tempted to prove him correct and climb to her feet, leaving him there, but something in his body held her in place.  
For the first time since she had seen him wake up, Nabiki took the time to meticulously examine him. The changes were subtle, but they were apparent to her knack for interpreting human behaviour. Physically, he was the same. The dark hair and light eyes, the strength of body and fluidity of movement that marked his fighting skills. Instead of his flamboyant arrogance and reckless attitude, he exuded a determination and strength that had never been there before. It reminded her of his arro- gance, but it wasn't arrogance. It was more like he no longer had to prove he was better than everyone; he knew it.  
The changes, however, did not stop in the way he carried himself. His eyes were the most startling difference. As she looked into them she saw the vitality that had always been there, but it scarcely veiled the sorrow and conflict behind it. And beyond that, even deeper and harder to see in his rugged face was acceptance and anger burning side by side.  
Ranma reminded her of her grandfather after his first heart attack. It had been a year or two before her mother's death. She could recall eavesdropping on her father had mother as they were encouraging the beloved patriarch to take it easy. The old codger had laughed their attempts off with a dismissive wave of his hand. "Stop mothering me, boy!" he chastised her father. "Life gave me a weak heart, but a weak heart is not going to give me an unfulfilled life. If the kami wish to take me, they can have me, but until that time, I'm doing what I damn well please."  
Her eyes had been drawn to her grandfather. He was kneeling on a tatami mat, his body frail and weak, but his dark eyes had burned just as Ranma's burned now. There was determination in them. He turned his head, his gaze fastening on her small face peeking in through the slightly open door. Gasping she had backpedaled away from the door and scurried back to her own room.  
When he had looked at her, it was as if a light had entered her mind as the mask of determination was replaced with sadness and acceptance, if not a tiny amount of anger. Here was a man who cared little about his own mortality, but one who was never going to give up life. Hadn't he been a kamikaze pilot in the Second World War? The only reason he had survived was that his plane had clipped a destroyer, sending him plummeting into the waters off the Okinawan shore. For two days he had kept himself afloat until he had been able to trudge ashore and join an infantry unit fighting to repel the Marine Landing Forces.   
The sea had not stopped him. The burning plane had never stopped him. The guns and artillery had not stopped him. So why should a weak heart stop him from living his life out how he wanted? But Nabiki had seen that he knew deep down that to do that was to shorten his life and hurt him further, but he would not give in because it was his life. The same look burned in Ranma's face.  
She did not know what he had gone through, but if his revel- ation about him and Akane only scratched the surface, she doubted she wanted to know. More importantly though, it proved that his goal was not his honour. She saw that in his story. He had pro- tected Akane's honour but taken the disgrace on himself for his actions. Was that why he had broken his engagement? So Akane could have a choice and not be forced into something she hated?   
Suddenly, like with her grandfather, a light of understand- ing and sympathy opened in her mind. She beat the sympathy down and ignored it. She was not going to get emotional, but the un- derstanding helped her see Ranma and made it easier for her to give into his request.  
Ranma watched Nabiki. She opened her mouth and spoke. She didn't laugh at him. She didn't chastise him or demean him. She simply said, "I'll do what I can."  
Relief flooded through Ranma as he sank back against the tree. For a moment he simply relished his victory like a fine meal, but eventually his predicament and impending sense of doom forced him to speak. "Is there anything to get me out of these stupid promises?"  
"I don't know," Nabiki admitted. "To tell you the truth, I've been trying to think of ways to make Cologne nullify this agreement, but I can't think of anything to hold over her. That is unless you'd be willing to threaten, torture, or kill Shampoo."  
"I can't do that. Maybe threaten her, but Cologne would only laugh at that. I'm not even sure that would work anyway. I've got this feeling that if I got rid of Shampoo, she'd just hunt me down and kill me for her Amazon honour."  
"You're probably right, but it helps to keep your options open." Ranma grunted in reply. "What have you decided?" Nabiki asked curiously.   
Ranma was silent a moment and then spoke. "If nothing comes up, I'm just going to ignore the promises, but even that won't work. If I do that, I'm terrified that Cologne or Shampoo will try to hurt Akane, or maybe kill her. I need a way to get them off my back for good. The promises are nothing. I don't give a damn about keeping my honour for those two."  
He lifted his face so Nabiuki could see his eyes. "The Ama- zon's don't have a good grasp on honour. They've been isolated so long that this whole set of silly rituals and petty insults have just been ingrained into them. Hell, this thing about defeating an Amazon woman is a perfect example."   
"How so?" Nabiki asked. What Ranma had just said ignited a spark in her mind. There was something she was missing, but it would not get to her. Unlike Ranma though, she was not one to ignore those annoying suspicions. Instead she prodded him on for more information to knock loose the thought.  
"Just think about it. I go down there and beat Shampoo as a girl. She has to kill me because she lost face by being defeated by an outside girl. That makes some sort of sense, although just defeating me would have been enough to satisfy honour. Killing takes it too far." Ranma threw his hands up in the air and then pushed himself from the ground and began pacing in front of Nabiki.  
"But that is the whole problem. There is no middle ground in an Amazon. It is one way or the other. That's why Shampoo 'loves' me. She has to. But it makes no sense. I defeat her as a girl and as a boy. As a girl I did it legally, as a boy it was a mistake. Yet she decides to marry me. Why? I don't understand it."  
"Maybe she thought that being defeated by accident is more of a blow to her honour than being defeated for real."  
"No it's not! Honour is lost by the attacker if he wins from an unfair advantage. Shampoo had the right to challenge me right there to a real fight, and if I refused, I would have lost honour not her."  
"Maybe she was afraid that she would win?"  
"Huh?"  
"Think about it. She comes from a tribe where the women are stronger fighters than the men, and she loses to you as a girl. She therefore thinks that maybe you are weaker in your male form and won't be able to defeat her, and so she'll have to kill you as a girl, which she can't do."  
"So she decides to love me instead of lose face," Ranma finished, his eyes wide, "But after a while, she realized I was better as a boy than as a girl."  
"So she just let the defeat stand and fell in love with you," Nabiki finished for him.  
"Why are we talking about this?" Ranma suddenly exclaimed as his patience ran out. "Whether or not she loves me and why is not going to solve this problem." He was becoming frustrated. Not being able to see an end or solution vexed him, and always shortened his fuse.  
"Ranma, you're absolutely hopeless."  
"Hey, I thought you were going to help me!" Ranma snapped.  
"I am, you jerk," Nabiki retorted.  
"I don't need to take this," Ranma said flatly.  
"Oh, for crying out loud. Just shut your mouth and sit down. Who cares about your damn pride? I thought you were doing this to help Akane. Do you want me to tell her you went to Shampoo because you couldn't talk civilly for half an hour?"   
Ranma mutely shook his head and sat down. "That's better. Now like I was going to say, before you decided to shoot off your mouth, sometimes talking about the subject that is bothering you will reveal it's own answer. Do you think people solve problems just by hitting their head on a door and yelling, 'Eureka!'?"   
"Gomen," Ranma apologized, "I guess I'm just really stressed."  
"Aren't we all," Nabiki said under her breath.  
"What did you say?"  
"Nothing. Let's get on with this."  
"What were we talking about?" Ranma asked in an exhuasted voice, rubbing his right brow.  
"You were talking about how Shampoo loves you because you defeated her," Nabiki prompted.  
"Oh yeah," Ranma said sheepishly. "Like I said, I never really defeated her as a guy. It was an accident, and then you told me 'bout how she decided to lose less face by marrying me. Gods, this is confusing. So she wants to marry me to save her honour, but somehow she fell in love with me."  
"Or convinced herself that she did," Nabiki added.  
"Maybe, but I doubt it." Nabiki raised an eyebrow at his comment by allowed him to continue speaking. "The Amazons have this peculiar thing about guys defeating them. I mean if any guy defeats an Amazon woman, she has to marry him. I think it has something to do with honour lost from the defeat and then re- gained by marrying and dominating the guy as his wife. But why not just kill an outsider male? And what happens when a Amazon guy beats an outside girl?"  
"Ranma you're a little off track now."  
"I know. It's just that their idea of honour is way bizarre. It makes sense, but it is so..so..primitive."  
"That's strange. Cologne thought Japanese honour was weak because it classified honour."  
"Hmph! That sounds like her. She's more extreme than my father when it comes to martial arts and honour. I really hate dealing with her. I hate dealing with them all. Sometimes I wish I had never defeated Shampoo, or someone else had..." He stopped, his eyes opening wide. He turned to Nabiki and saw the same expression on her face.  
"If someone else defeated Shampoo..." Nabiki began.  
"It would force Shampoo to have a real match with me. There is no way the other suitor would allow my accidental defeat to stand," Ranma completed.  
"Especially if you dropped hints to him," Nabiki added, "And then you only have to lose and you're free. A promise to marry is nothing if Shampoo can't marry you."  
"No, I don't even need to fight. I'll win if I do. I'll deny the right to a rematch, lose some honour, and walk away a free man." Ranma was smiling broadly now, his eyes sparkling.  
"So who gets to marry Shampoo?" Nabiki asked.  
"Who've we got?"  
"Ryouga?"  
"Nah, he's in love with Akane. There is no way that pig is going to help me get Akane."   
Nabiki nodded in agreement. "How about Kunou?"  
"He could never defeat her. That idiot has the martial skill of a beginning student. Besides, I doubt he's intelligent enough to understand what he'd be doing."  
"Who else does that leave?" Nabiki asked.  
"Ranma! I cannot allow this to stand. You'll die!" A new voice shouted from the trees.   
As Ranma dodged the descending chain, he smiled and nodded to Nabiki as they both said, "Mousse."  
  
Mousse was in a blind rage. His feet carried him away from the Nekohaten, his body blindly following where he took him. He knew his first stop was the Tendou Dojo, but there he did not find Ranma, so he began scouring the city. From Furinkan to the city proper, he searched in a zigzag, his rage growing as his efforts yielded naught.  
His mind was a whirling torment of hatred and burning rage. Ranma. Shampoo. Married. She wasn't his. She had never been his. A dark depression began to well up in him. Everything his life had been built upon was gone in an instant. The mountain-like foundation of his love had been crumbled like a straw house with a few words from his beloved.   
He could never hate her though, so he turned his malice onto the person he could destroy. Ranma. Like so many other people, the name had become a curse on his lips. Today ended the reign of Saotome Ranma as the premier martial artist and pretty boy of Nerima. Mousse was determined to drag his enemy down if he had to die doing it. There was nothing left for him anyway.  
His feet brought him to the park. entering it, his eyes automatically scanned the paths and shaded trees for his prey. He knew Ranma came here to jog fairly often, or to follow Akane when she jogged. Because of this it was a safe bet that he would be here. Then he saw the red shirt, the black hair, and a girl with short, dark hair. There was only one person who that could be.  
Leaping to a tree, he screamed out his challenge in a ringing voice as he pulled a razor sharp blade attached to a thin chain from he inside of his robe and flung it. "Ranma! I can't allow this to stand. You'll die!" Ranma of course dodged, as Mousse had expected, but then the fight was on.  
Ranma reacted quickly to Mousse's attack. After leaping backward, he launched forward, grabbed the embedded razor blade, and tangled the chain around a tree, removing one of Mousse's many weapons. Landing on his feet, he ducked as he heard the flutter of the blind magician's robe. A mace flew through the space where his head had been and landed dangerously close to Nabiki.   
Nabiki squeaked in fright as the spiked mace gouged the grass by her left thigh. "Nabiki!" Ranma shouted, as he grabbed another mace from the air and tossed it into a tree, "Get outta here. I'll deal with Mousse."  
Slowly, to mask her fear and make sure Ranma and Mousse thought she was unruffled, Nabiki gained her feet and waved non- chalantly at Ranma. "It's been nice doing business with you, Ranma-kun. See you!" Nabiki began to leave.  
"Hey, Nabiki! Save some food for me," Ranma shouted as he swept in close to Mousse, and flipped him against a tree. "On second thought, forget that. I'll eat at Ucchan's," Ranma amended after he saw the gleam in Nabiki's eye and the rage-filled face of Mousse as he climbed to his feet.  
"Your loss," Nabiki answered and walked away from the scene whistling cheerfully.  
Ranma promptly forgot about her, and turned his attention back to Mousse who was charging him like a feral bull. Leaping, Ranma barely managed to twist his body out of the way as Mousse threw a spear at him. At the height of his leap, he grabbed a tree branch, swung up into the tree and leaned against the bark. Ranma did not really want to fight Mousse, especially since the Amazon was the most essential person in getting him off the hook with Shampoo.   
"Hey, Mousse!" he called out and then leaned backwards and swung to the next lower branch just as two knives and a shuriken flew through his recently vacated position. "I think we need to talk."  
"There is nothing to talk about, Saotome. Die!" Ranma had to leap from the tree this time as Mousse unleased several razor sharp disks that sheared the branches around him. Ranma realized Mousse was playing serious, and if he was going to get him to listen he would have to beat him; however, he wanted to see if he could reason with the guy first. But looking at the enraged Mousse, he decided it was going to be about as easy as explaining one of his fiancee's plots to Akane.  
"Listen, Mousse." He dodged a chain. "I don't wanna marry Shampoo." Two swords and a rather nasty looking iron hook on a chain scraped past his ear. "If you'd just listen, dammit! I can explain."  
Mousse stopped for a moment and glared daggers at Ranma as his breath rattled in his throat. "You've destroyed my life, Saotome. You've taken the only thing that has ever meant anything to me. Because of you I can never have my Shampoo. She does not love me. She despises me. She loves you, and I will kill you for stealing her love."   
With an inarticulate cry of rage, Mousse unleashed a storm of weapons at Ranma. Ranma's skin went untouched, right off several objects ripped his shirt and pants open. Looking at the torn fabric, Ranma decided that enough was enough. He had neither the strength nor the patience to play dodge-ball with this idiot who he was trying to help.  
As Mousse began another wave of attacks, Ranma went into action. His form became a blur as he ducked beneath several flying chains. As they slowed he grabbed them and twirled them, wrapping the chain around Mousse's forearm. With a tug, he forced Mousse to stumble forward to regain his balance. Ranma acted with the speed of an attacking hawk.   
Slipping beneath the stumbling Mousse, Ranma scissored the magician's feet as he unleased several hundred tightly controlled punches directly into his opponent's solar plexus. The breath slammed out of Mousse's lungs, and he slumped to the ground as Ranma rolled out from under him.  
Pulling himself into a crouched position, Ranma dusted off his clothing and watched Mousse with a critical eye. "Are you ready to talk yet? Or do you want another lesson in martial arts?" Ranma mentally slapped himself as the second sentence left his mouth.   
With an inhuman growl, Mousse vaulted his body from the ground and came down in a fighting stance in front of Ranma. Pushing his glasses back up onto his nose, he proceeded to attack.   
Ranma was getting fairly annoyed with the way things were going. It was not difficult for him to avoid Mousses' attacks, but the ridiculous objects that kept appearing in the man's hands were driving him crazy. Finally, Ranma had had enough. With a cry, he rushed Mouse and slipped under a punch.  
Slipping behind the startled magician, Ranma wrapped his arms around Mousse's chest and launched them both into the air. Mousse attempted to struggle out of Ranma's grasp, but Ranma had locked his hands. Rage still burned within Mousse, but he knew deep down he had lost, especially when he saw the fountain Ranma was planning to land in.   
It was to be said in Mousse's favour, that he did not go gently into that goodnight. Instead he kicked with his heel, gouging Ranma's shin and ankle with a sharp hook. He brought his elbow back into Ranma's ribs, connecting solidly with Ranma's slowly healing wound. Mousse was rewarded with a grunt of pain, but Ranma still refused to let go, and then they were crashing into the water.  
As he felt his body shrink, the bones lighten and change position as a thousand pins pricked his skin as the feathers bloomed from his body, he released his rage and watched as its bright flame was smothered by a dark despair. He didn't care anymore. He had lost his love to the one person he could never win it back from. Hell, he hadn't even won her in the first place.   
Mentally he shook his head, it did not matter anymore. Even if he could win her love, Ranma had gone to her. Mousse knew that he was incapable of defeating Ranma. He was good, one of the better Amazon males, despite his vision problems. When compared to Ranma though, he was a small sparrow facing the slashing talons of a majestic eagle. He knew superiority when he saw it, and nothing he could learn, not even the Aborigine techniques he had forgotten in his rage, would help him defeat Ranma.  
As the despair overtook him, his will deserted him, and his mind accepted the inevitable. His life had no meaning now. Why should he continue fighting, continue living? There was no reason. He would end his pain and his life at the same moment.  
"Mousse, we need to talk." Ranma's voice barely penetrated the depressed fog of Mousse's mind. What importance could Ranma's words of consolation have to him?   
"I need your help, Mousse." Mousse tried to block his enemy's voice from his head, but Ranma's rich voice reached him anyway. "I'm going to assume you know that I've been promised to Shampoo." Thrashing his feet violently as Ranma rubbed salt into his torn heart, Mousse almost forced himself to fight again, but a voice told him it was useless.  
Ranma placed him on the ground. Tucking his head under his wing, Mousse curled into a ball of feathers and ignored Ranma and life. "I don't want to marry her. I'm being forced into this, but I can't get out without a good reason. I want you to marry Shampoo."   
At these words, Mousse snapped his head up and gazed in shock at Ranma's face. Her eyes were serious, dead serious. He saw no trace of humour, but instead saw pleading in the face of his mortal enemy. Ranma did not love Shampoo. Ranma did not want her. The words echoed in his mind like a joyous, triumphal chant.   
"I want to help you win Shampoo's hand. Are you willing?"  
Unable to express his feelings verbally or even physically, he could only nod his feathered head in acceptance. Never had he imagined a day such as this one. He was being given a chance at his true love by his rival for Shampoo's heart. Silently, he prayed to the Ancestors that he was living in reality and not some dream.   
He felt Ranma's slight hands lift him from the ground, and then he was being carried. "Let's get some hot water, Mousse. We need to talk. We have a lot of things to plan."  
Mousse heard the words but did not care. His world was filled with other thoughts, other dreams. As they passed a lot, the sound of laughter reached Mousse's ears. Glancing to the side, he saw the same children he had seen before. They were playing with their toy mecha as their parents watched over them protectively. For the first time in his life, Mousse was able to imagine himself standing next to Shampoo, watching their children play. A dream, but one that had a chance to come true.   
He glanced up at Ranma. She was lost in thought as she walked, her eyes fixed sightlessly on the street in front of her. Mousse realized he owed his life and happiness to this confusing companion of his. He did not know how he would ever repay it, but he knew he would do everything in his power to repay Ranma for what she had given to him this day.  
  
Author's Notes:  
  
There is one thing in her I have to explain, because youm might not understand it. That is the Death of a Thousand.  
The Death of a Thousand is an old Chinese form of the death penalty. It was generally a punishment given by the Khan to war prisoners, traitors, and anyone who accidentally stepped in their shadow or looked at them wrong on a bad day.  
Basically it goes like this. The Prisoner is given to the Fondler who ties the man or woman to a table. Next a basket is brought forward. Inside of it there are a thousand pieces of silk, eash with a part of the body written on it. There are three hundred and thirty-two body parts so each part has three slips. There are four slips that are instant death. Anyway a slip is drawn and that part of the body is given particular attention. The first time it is drawn (say it is the pinky), the Fondler might take a pin and slowly insinuate it beneath the finger nail and probe with in the finger for a time, sending lots of pain into the prisoner. The next time the finger is drawn, the Fondler would slice the skin to the bone and lay it bare. Only when the third is drawn is the finger removed.  
No two pains are exactly alike and the body is kept awake and alive the entire time. This death can last up to a hundred days and even more. Very insidious, and very apt comparrison for Mousse's love if you know what I'm speaking of.  
If you're interested, I get almost all my information on ancient (or is it Medieval) China from the book "The Journeyer" by Gary Jennings, pub. by Avon Fiction. This is the story of Marco Polo and is very very good.  
  
Well on to my comments.  
I'd like to thank all of my pre-readers who have been helping me up to this point. Sutedja, "Pheonix" , Jorge Flores Topete, and Rea have been a great help in making this thing readable and commenting on my story and plot. Thanks a bunch guys. You're the greatest.  
  
Any way onto the actuall omments. I don't really have any. Mostly because I think I've described and explained myself so many times that it seems like I'm covering redundant material in these sections. SO I'll shut up and allow you to ponder what I'm going to do next.  
  
Please comment on this. I'd really appreciate it. And thanks to all who already have commented, all of your advice has been very helpful  
  
----*----*----*----*----*----*----*----*----*----  
All rights and priveleges to Ranma Nibunnoichi   
belong to Rumiko Takahashi. The characters of her   
series are used without her permission for the   
purpose of entertainment only. This work of fic-  
tion is not meant for sale or profit.   
  
All original characters are the creation of the  
author. All copyright privileges to these chara-  
cters are reserved for the author.  
  
This story is a product of the author's hard work   
and imagination. Do not modify, add to, or make   
use of any part of this work without the author's   
knowledge and consent. Please feel free to archive   
this work.   
  
Comments and criticism are welcome.   
Written by Joseph A. Kohle, (c) 1997.   
Send all comments to Ashira@worldnet.att.net  
Find my fanfics at   
http://www.geocities.com/Tokyo/Flats/index.html 


	13. Vol 3 Chap 4

DISCLAIMER: Ranma Nibunnoichi is the property of Takahashi Rumiko, Shogakukan Inc, Shonen Sunday Comics, and Viz Video. It is used without their permission and is not intended for profit but only for the enjoyment of fans of the Ranma series. All characters within this fic that are not the property of the above mentioned are copyrighted to the author, Joseph Kohle, January 1997. This work of fiction is the result of the author's hard work and is for the enjoyment of others. Please do not change, modify, or use any segment of this story without the author's knowing and written consent. Feel free to archive this work.  
  
************************************************************************   
  
Meiyo Ai soshite Nikushimi  
  
A Ranma Nibunnoichi Fanfic  
by Joseph Kohle  
  
Part III: The Golden Apple  
Chapter IV: Aphrodite's Gift   
  
Ranma walked through the darkened streets of Nerima. The city lights and shop signs adding pools of light to the blackness that surrounded him. The clouds above covered the moon and stars like a jealous lover. The day was ending, yet Ranma was still moving about his tasks. Undaunted, he continued on relentlessly. Cologne was next on his list, and then back to the Tendou's to explain everything to Akane.  
Surprisingly, he was not becoming tired. Although his mind was weary from his troubles, his body was gaining its strength back more and more each hour he forced himself on. The dinner Mousse paid for hadn't hurt either.   
The meal had only been a means to an end. For him, the important part was Mousse. The man was the answer to his problems. Maybe not the best, but the only one that had a good chance of working. He had tried to explain that to Mousse, and he hoped he had gotten it through the guy's skull. The next few weeks would tell him whether or not it had worked. That is what dinner had led to; an agreement between them.   
After changing Mousse back into a human, and giving him his clothes, they entered a small restaurant and sat down at a secluded table. Ranma was silent and preoccupied as he scanned the menu. Across from him, he occasionally saw Mousse simply watching him in confusion and at times gratitude. It disturbed him a little, and finally forced him to break the silence, since Mousse was obviously not going to.  
"I want you to marry Shampoo," Ranma said finally, placing his menu flat on the table.  
Mousse was quiet for a moment before he spoke. "I've tried for fourteen years to win Shampoo's heart, but she refuses me all of the time. I give her my affection, my love, my undying servitude, yet she still treats me as nothing."  
"Mousse you are nothing..."  
"Maybe you see it that way, Saotome!" Mousse growled. "But I'm better for Shampoo than you'll ever be."  
"Will you shut up and let me finish!" Mousse clamped his mouth shut at Ranma's anger. "I'm sick of people interrupting me and jumping to conclusions. Do it again and I'm beating you senseless and not doing a damn thing for you." His anger slowly cooled as Mousse nodded in acceptance. Taking a few deep breaths, Ranma mentally ran over a few calming exercises before he continued. "As I was saying. To Shampoo you're nothing. She sees you as a servant or some such. No matter how much you say you love her, she'll ignore you and keep going after me."  
"Why don't you just tell her you don't love her," Mousse suggested.  
"You think I haven't tried that? Hell, I dumped her and she still came after me. It's like a curse or something, and I ain't too fond of it. I wanna stop it, before I'm forced to marry her. To do that, I need another eligible groom, you."  
"She won't marry me though. She always denies me and pushes me away," Mousse protested.  
"Just beat her, you idiot."  
"I've tried, Ranma, but I can't do it. I can't beat her. Somehow she always wins, no matter what I do." Ranma groaned and shook his head. How did the fool not see the obvious? Was he blind mentally and physically?  
"Let me tell you something Mousse." Ranma spoke slowly like one did when explaining things to Kunou. "You're a good fighter. I've seen you fight, and I've fought against you. Against Shampoo you should beat her more than half the time, but you never win. Why?"  
Mousse started to answer, but Ranma cut him off. "Because you stick to the same things over and over again. I've seen only a few new moves out of you in the past few months, and they are used against me, giving Shampoo the chance to see them and how they're defeated. Not smart Mousse."  
"What do you want me to do? Stop fighting you and fight her instead?"  
"Yes! Stop wasting your energies on me and challenge Shampoo. Do you think she'll go to you because you spout better poetry than me?"  
There was silence from Mousse, and then he stood up. "You're right, Ranma. I can see my errors now. I will go and challenge Shampoo at this moment before I do anything else." He started to walk away from the table.  
"Will you sit down!" Ranma snapped. Several people gave them nervous glances, but when Mousse returned to his seat and nothing else happened they resumed their own meals, although an occasional curious glance was still directed their way. "Are you trying to screw everything up?" Ranma hissed as Mousse sat down.  
"But you said..."  
"I know what I said! But that don't mean I want ya to go rushing out and do it. Baka! That's just what I need, Cologne and Shampoo onto my plans. You're not going to beat Shampoo until we're out of Japan, preferably back in your village."  
"But why?"  
"Weren't you listening? Never mind, just listen. I'm not trusting you to beat Shampoo. You've got this thing against hitting her. I've seen it when she attacks you."  
"You don't attack Akane or any of the other girls, why should I be different?"   
"This isn't about me, it's about you. You'll hit a girl, I won't. Hell man, you kidnaped Akane and were planning to turn her into a duck, but you've never hit Shampoo. I'm not taking a chance with you. Until I'm sure you could possibly beat me, you're training under me. Got that!"  
Mousse glared at him for a moment and then nodded his head. "What choice do I have? I must accept your offer. How else may I have my Shampoo? When do we leave?"  
"Tomorrow morning. I wanna talk to the ghoul. She might just release me from these promises."  
"You've mentioned those before," Mousse interrupted, "What promises are you talking about?"   
Ranma was quiet a moment. He was reluctant to let Mousse in on everything that had transpired, but he'd have to tell him sooner or later. As long as the possibility existed that Mousse might have information about the statue, Ranma realized that he had to tell Mousse. Xian Lin was too important to him not to tell Mousse. "I'll tell tomor- row, or maybe later, but I don't have time to go into it now. Let's just say it involves giri." Mousse nodded in understanding.   
"Where will we meet?"  
"The Tendou Dojo tomorrow morning. The earlier the better. Knowing my pop, I doubt I'll have a place to sleep tonight anyway." He paused for a moment. "Don't tell anyone you're leaving, and whatever you do, don't go back to the Nekohanten. I ain't giving away any advantage," he warned and then picked up his menu before Mousse formed an answer.  
The conversation had died down at that point, there had been nothing left to say. After eating quickly, he had left Mousse alone in the restaurant. Despite his warning to Mousse, Ranma was dead serious about his intentions to confront Cologne. Although he doubted the Amazon would bow to his requests, he had to make sure they stayed off his back until he was ready to face them.  
Like when he ran along the fence, he was beginning to realize there was a delicate balance he had to maintain. Lean to far one way or the other and he would loose his precarious position. At one moment he was convincing Nabiki to trust him, the next he was contemplating how to make Cologne believe he was actually going to accept the oaths. He had to keep Akane happy and content, while disappearing to train Mousse. He had to keep Mousse away from Cologne and Shampoo until Mousse was ready. He had to keep Shampoo and Cologne away from him until he was able to crumble their designs. Each time he cleared one obstacle, two more appeared ahead, forcing him to comnpensate. He knew that sooner or later one would knock him from the fence. He just hoped it was later.  
Turning down a street he saw the Nekohanten in the distance. One more obstacle to overcome. As he walked, he wormed his hand into the pouch at his belt and gently caressed the smooth stone figurine with his fingers. From it he could feel the confidence and reassurance that had accompanied Xian Lin like a shadow radiate into his heart. Bolstering his confidence, he grasped the idol firmly and walked toward the Nekohanten, prepared to attempt juggling two more balls.  
  
Toweling off the last plate, Shampoo placed it on a stack of clean plates. Wiping her hands, she glanced with annoyance at the grill and prep areas. She did not feel like cleaning them, and knew that they would still get a few more customers before closing. So what was the point of doing it? There was none.  
If there was one thing that truly angered Shampoo, it was cleaning. The cooking she did not mind, nor did she mind serving the customers. In fact, those two aspects of owning a restaurant she enjoyed. She took a perverse delight in the feel of the men's eyes following her body with desire and the envious glances many women cast her way. She enjoyed the compliments on her cooking and on the speed with which she prepared it. But were was the glory or praise in cleaning? It was demeaning work where her hands wrinkled, and her hair dampened and hung in unflattering locks across her shoulders and brow.   
If not for Ranma, she would have left Japan months ago, but because of him, she was forced to stay and clean like some common housewife. The word itself was a condemnation in her mind. She was an Amazon warrior, brought up to be the next leader and eventually a Matriarch of the Tribe. To be relegated to cleaning, and even serving others, was well beneath her dignity, but she did it. For Ranma she did it.  
Where did Ranma disappear to? Her great-grandmother had assured her that it was impossible for Ranma to stay away forever. Yet she could not shake the certainty that the longer he remained away the more the chasm separating them grew. His words of so long ago walked her dreams like dirge singers, planting seeds of uncertainty and fear. "I don't want to marry you. I am not your husband-to-be. Is that understood? Now leave me alone!"   
She pushed aside Ranma's voice. It was impossible for him not to love her. How could he hate her when she threw herself at him? Was that not what all men dreamed of? She could see it in the faces of her custo- mers. They all wanted her, but not Ranma. She refused to believe it was because he did not love her. No, he had to love her, she was just not tying hard enough. So with each failure she tried harder, did more. For him she would have done anything, but he had still pushed her from his arms time and time again.  
To chase after a man like she did was a blow to her pride. From the moment she had learned to walk, she had held a weapon. "You will be the best one day," her parents had told her after each technique she learned. "The girl is gifted," the villagers had whispered. "I will make her my equal one day," her great-grandmother had promised again and again. She was a warrior born and raised. In her blood ran the fighting spirit of the Amazon's. Obtaining the goal at all costs was a philosophy she had always upheld.  
Yet at all costs meant she was demeaning herself as a warrior. Though she knew little Japanese, she could hear the words whispered by Ranma's friends as she walked through school or when they ate at the restaurant. In their words, she learned they thought of her as a woman for all men, an easy girl. What was the Japanese word? Yariman? Yes that was the word. She was a slut in their eyes, all because she threw herself at Ranma.  
She knew she should leave him, return to China, but then her honour would tell her it was her duty to say, and then she would see him and hear his voice. Her heart would melt taking her resolve and taking her inhibitions with it. When she heard his voice...  
"Yo, Mummy!" Ranma's voice demanded angrily from the dining area. "Where the hell are ya? I've gotta few things to discuss with you."  
All doubts left her, and she was filled with a sublime joy. Throw- ing down the apron, she bolted from the kitchen and threw herself onto Ranma. hugging him tightly to her body. She felt his body tense, the muscles going rigid from the surprise, but that was normal. "I'm not in the mood for this," Ranma said. She missed the annoyance in his voice and simply held on tighter.  
"Shampoo thought Airen leave her for good. Now know Ranma love her." An instant later Shampoo found herself on the floor as Ranma shook her off none too gently. Her eyes mirroring her hurt and shock, she could only ask, "Why?"  
"Later Shampoo. I'm here to talk to Cologne," Ranma said by way of dismissal. "Where is that old bat?" His eyes scanned the dining room, the pass-through to the kitchen, and finally the stairs where a steady thump was emanating from.  
"So Son-in-law," Cologne's voice called as her wrinkled face came into the light, "I see you've finally come to give in. It was inevit- able." She hopped off the last step and stood on her cane regarding Ranma as if he were a horse at the track.  
"I never give in." Shampoo heard Ranma mutter softly. It was obvi- ous her great-grandmother did not hear though as Ranma quickly answered out loud. "I want you to release my family from those ridiculous pro- mise. If you wanted me, you should've challenged me."  
"There was nothing ridiculous about those promises, Son-in-law. I gained them fairly. They were given freely."  
Ranma snorted derisively, and Shampoo flinched visibly from her position on the floor. No one had ever taken tones like Ranma was taking with her great-grandmother. She did not want Ranma hurt. "Ranma? Shampoo not think..."  
"Be quiet Shampoo," Ranma and Cologne snapped simultaneously. Of the two Shampoo feared the latter more. Though Ranma's had the bite of anger, his had not been the sharp, cold tone of Cologne's rebuke. Uncon- sciously, Shampoo moved closer to Ranma. To her relief, Ranma did not push her away.  
"I'm sure they were freely given, but what choice did they have? Give em or let me die? Some choice."  
"It's your own fault, Ranma. I've warned you about flouting Amazon Law. Our honour must be..."  
"Honour? You call this honour. My father has more honour than you. But then Oyaji always said that next to food and sleep honour was the most important part of life."  
"So you're going to break your family's word, disgrace your father, your mother, Akane? That is like you. I knew your father had rubbed off on you, Son-in-law." Shampoo stiffened at Cologne's words. She glanced up at Ranma and only saw an unreadable expression.  
"I never said that."  
"So you are accepting. I knew you were a smart one, Son-in-law."  
"I never said that either. There are more than two options."  
As she tried to fathom Ranma's words, Shampoo heard a small cough- ing sound and looked at her great-grandmother. Cologne was laughing, a small smile on her face. "I didn't think you had it in you, Son-in-law."   
Shampoo pulled herself to her feet as Cologne laughed and clung to Ranma's arm. "What great-grandmother mean?" she asked fearfully.  
"I'd hate to have all your hard work go to waste, Ghoul." Shampoo glanced back and forth between the now smiling Ranma and her chuckling great-grandmother. She couldn't help but feel she was missing something, but whatever it was remained beyond her grasp. "Once more Cologne. Release me from the promises." The smile dropped from his lips and the impact of his words finally hit Shampoo.  
"Iie!" she screamed as she grabbed Ranma's arm in a vice-grip, "Husband marry Shampoo. Husband promised to Shampoo. Not Violent Girl, not Spatula Girl, not Crazy girl. Ranma is Shampoo's!" She could feel the tears on her face as he turned and pried her hands from his biceps. Their eyes meet at that moment, and a piece of her died as she saw the sadness in them. He doesn't love me echoed through her mind.   
Dimly, she heard him speak again. "Release me, Cologne."  
"I don't think so, Son-in-law. Either way I win." Even Shampoo could hear the malicious glee in Cologne's words.  
Through a haze of tears, Shampoo saw Ranma's reaction. It was a memory that would haunt her for the rest of her life. His jaw clenched in frustration. His hand went to a pouch at his side, grasping it tightly. For several moments his body remained rigid and unmoving, then he bowed his head in defeat. "As long as the promise can be held, I'll hold it." His voice was soft and filled with an aching loss.   
"It is the only choice, eh Son-in-law?" Cologne asked.  
"Not the only. The necessary one." Though a part of her mind told her she should be happy, Shampoo could only see the sadness on Ranma's face, the sorrow in his voice, the slump in his shoulders. It was not the man she had fallen in love with. He had been invincible, a rock the waves crashed around. Here stood a statue that had finally succumbed to the elements. Its features rubbed away, the sharp lines of its body gone. She was not gaining Ranma; she was gaining an empty shell.  
"I will meet you in Juketsuzoku, in two months." Ranma announced, his voice cutting through Shampoo's depressed thoughts.   
"You will leave with us. I will also take back my statue, Son-in-law."  
Suddenly, like a snake striking, Ranma was his old self. "You don't get the statue back. Ever!" he snapped. "This," his hand grabbed the pouch, "Stays with me till I die."  
"We will see, Ranma. We leave tomorrow."  
"You may leave tomorrow, but I will not be leaving with you."  
"I don't trust you to meet us in Joketsuzoku," Cologne admitted.  
"I swear."  
"That doesn't hold water with me, Son-in-law."  
"A month in Hong Kong," Ranma suggested.  
"I still don't believe you."  
Ranma did not answer with words, he swung his open hand down on a chair, shattering the wood. Shampoo saw him intentionally hit it wrong. A long splinter ripped a gash in his palm. Blood quickly welled up and began to drip on the floor. Gritting his teeth, Ranma grabbed a napkin from a table and dipped a finger in his blood. With a few slashes he made his mark on the napkin and handed it to Cologne. "I swear on the blood of my ancestors that I will be in Hong Kong in one month."   
Shampoo watched Ranma in shock. Even if he did not know it, he had made the strongest oath known to an Amazon. He not only was putting his honour and his family's honour on the line, but the entire Saotome clan that had ever lived or ever would live. Cologne knew this, and Shampoo realized that Ranma had gotten what he wanted.  
"One month," Cologne conceded, "No more, no less. And when we're in China, we'll talk about the statue." Shampoo heard the implied threat in the promise this time, but Ranma did not seem to care. He only nodded and left the restaurant as silently as he had entered.  
Her eyes followed his form as it disappeared down the dark street, her mind a tumult of emotions and doubts. "Shampoo!" Jumping guiltily, she glanced over at Cologne. "Go finish cleaning. Tomorrow we start selling this place. We are going back to China." The words ignited a fire of joy within Shampoo. She was going back to China and her tribe. She was going back in honour with a powerful husband. How could she ever have doubted her great-grandmother? With a small smile, she returned to the hated cleaning, missing the scowl that darkened Cologne's face as she hopped back up the stairs.  
  
Akane glanced at the glowing television screen with bored eyes. Nothing interesting was on, and she was still tired despite sleeping most of the day. With a sigh she pushed herself from the couch and started to walk from the room. "Are you gonna watch anymore of this?" Nabiki asked. Akane only shook her head in answer. "Okay." The sound changed as Nabiki began to flip through the channels.  
Murmuring goodnights to her family scattered about the living room, she left the room and headed for the bathroom. A few minutes later she was climbing the stairs, her steps slow. Despite being physically tired, a warm tension filled her heart and body. It was because of Ranma, because he had returned to her.   
Waking from her slumber, she had remembered feeling his arms about her, his comforting words. At the time she had thought it a dream. Her mind had been too certain that he would never return, but the tray with two bowls of cold soup and the tea kettle next to her bed had trans- formed dream into reality. After that, it had been all she could do to keep herself from beaming like an mooncalf or grabbing everyone into a loving embrace.  
The only mar on her happiness was worry about Ranma. When they had talked, she had been paying little attention, concentrating more on him, the sound of his voice, the feel of his body against her own. She had only caught tidbits of his words, small fragments that really made no sense. She knew he had promised never to leave her. She knew he had told her he loved her. She remembered his concern for her health. Other than that she only remembered something about Ranma having to go somewhere for a little while.   
It was because she could not recall where he had gone, what he had gone to do, that worry was gnawing at her. In her mind she knew that he could take care of himself, but because she had almost lost him, she was being overly protective. Realizing how much he meant to her and having him disappear again so quickly scarred her. With Cologne and Shampoo she knew the worst could happen. And what if he went to see Cologne? She had banished that thought instantly, but she still worried.   
Despite the worry though, she felt like she was walking on air. A silly euphoria bubbled within her. More than anything she wanted to see Ranma again, touch him just to be certain this was not another dream. After two and a half weeks of suffering, even the fact that he had not been there when she woke, even the small doubts in the back of her mind could not suppress her cheer. In a single moment, her life had become brighter; her psyche lifted from a suicidal plummet to a soaring ecstasy. Nothing could shatter that. She felt invincible as she walked into her room.  
After her first step, she halted in shock. The light next to her desk was on, and in its glow she could see a shadowy form sitting on her bed. Fear seized her and she felt a scream catch in her throat as she started to back from the room. "Akane! It's me." Ranma's voice calmed her fear and she leaned against the door frame in relief for a second before the anger hit her.  
"What the hell are you doing in my room? In the dark no less," she demanded sharply.   
"I-I." Ranma stuttered as he leaned forward a bit.  
"And where the hell did you go, baka?" she asked stepping forward toward him, swinging the door shut. It latched with an audible click. "I was worried. What if Cologne drugged you? Or someone else? Sometimes you can be so dense. Didn't you realize who's looking for you? I didn't go through all that shit with Cologne to lose you like that."   
"I-I'm sorry, Akane," Ranma whispered as he leaned forward into the light. The apology itself was enough to halt Akane's anger, but the look of sheer exhaustion and defeat in Ranma's face wiped all of her misplaced rage into her original concern.  
"Ranma, are you okay?" she asked tentatively, taking a few steps forward and sitting on the bed in front of him.  
"Tired. I've had a busy day," Ranma explained leaning back against the wall. "I'm sorry I left you. I had to figure things out. I think I've got this thing worked out."  
"Where'd you go?" Akane asked curiously.   
"The Nekohanten," Ranma answered absently, his voice sleepy, "But I got the answer I needed, or at least one that works. I'm sorry that I didn't tell you, but I had to get it done. I've gotta leave tomorrow. I have to meet Cologne in Hong Kong in a month."  
"Hong Kong? Cologne?" Akane asked incredulously.  
Ranma continued talking. "So much to do. I've gotta take care of Mousse. Help Xian Lin. Salvage my honour. So much."  
Akane heard his words and than replayed them in her mind. He couldn't have said what he had just said. It was impossible. Hadn't he promised her? Hadn't he said that she meant more than his honour? And now? Now he was salvaging his honour, going to Hong Kong with Cologne, dealing with Mousse. He was leaving her.  
Akane could not even muster anger. It was impossible for her mind to conceive what was happening. Finally a single word traveled through her mind. Betrayed. He had betrayed her, led her on a leash and cast her off at the first moment.   
In her shock she did not even hear him continue to speak, explain- ing himself. She wanted to hate him, to hit him, scream at him, but she was unable to. Instead she felt the tears begin to roll down her cheeks. It had been her reaction to almost everything over the past few weeks, and now it came against her will. "No. You can't. You promised to stay with me. You promised!"  
A spark of anger lit within her, and she threw herself against the startled and now very awake Ranma. Her fists pummeled against his chest, more to vent her frustration and grief than to hurt him. She twisted as his hands grabbed at her shoulders, and her hand slapped him. "You pro- mised. I won't let you go. You're mine. Not Shampoo's, not Ukyou's, not Kodachi's, not Raiko's, but mine! Mine!"   
Ranma grabbed her again. This time she didn't try and move. Her body went limp, and she collapsed against him. Ineffectually beating her hands on his chest and shoulders, she twisted in his arms as he pulled her tightly against him. Envelopping her in a warm glow.  
As time passed her anger cooled and finally died. Ceasing her struggles she laid against his chest, listening to the frantic pace of his heart as tears streamed down her face to fall and dry in his silk shirt.  
"Are you done?" Ranma asked in a voice Akane had heard many parents take with their small children. He didn't wait for her answer, which was lucky, since she was unable to even think of an answer. "If you are done, then you can listen. I promised you that if I ever had to leave I'd come back. I'm sorry Akane, but I have to leave."  
"Why?"  
"Because of Cologne." His voice burned like acid as he said Cologne's name forcing Akane to glance up into her fiancee's face. She quickly turned away as she saw the burning hatred in his eyes. Although she knew it was not against her, the face she had seen chilled her heart because it was not Ranma's. It reminded her of a painting she had seen. A man had been pulling the strings of a puppet, oblivious to the puppet which was glaring up at him, its lips twisted in a half-smile of eager glee as the red eyes burned in a wooden face void of emotion. For nights afterward, she had woken from nightmares of that leering face, and the face she saw on Ranma was that face.   
Taking a shallow breath she turned her face upwards and gently reached out a hand and touched the hideous visage. "Let it go. Please, Ranma. Something horrible will happen if you continue. Please just stay with me." Under her hand, she felt his jaw relax, and then his arms were tightening around her.  
"I wish I could, but it has gone too far. I went to talk to her. I know I shouldn't have, but I had to try and play her game. I asked her to ignore the oaths. She wouldn't. She laughed at me and demanded..." He stopped for a moment as fear crossed his face.   
"What? What did she demand?" Akane asked fearfully.  
"Nothing. It's not important to you," Ranma answered shaking his head. "She's wanted me dead all along. She didn't care about Shampoo. She was going to let me die. Only Toufu-sensei saved me. I know. I could feel everything happen. And when I confronted her, she laughed. She laughed like it was some amusing play. I'm not letting that go Akane. Whatever she might say later, whatever might happen, one day I will crush her. I will make her apologize."  
"Is it worth losing to do that?" Akane asked.  
"She forced it all on me. I had to give her a blood oath to please her, dammit!" He lifted his hand in front of her face and she saw the bandage wrapped tightly around his palm. "How can I deal with a person like that. She wants the drastic, the unattainable. Well I've never been beaten, and I will move the earth to defeat her in this. She won't take you from me."  
"And that's why..." She didn't finish, couldn't finish the thought as the sheer joy his words caused spread through her. She had won his heart. It was plain as the sun in the sky.  
"Hai. Tomorrow I leave with Mousse. I'm going to train him. He'll beat Shampoo, and my claim on her will fall away. I never beat her fairly, it wasn't a contest. Cologne won't have two feet to stand on then. She will be disgraced, I will make sure of that, and then return."  
"As long as you come back," she whispered in response. She was too euphoric to argue with him. She only wanted him to come back and promise to do that.  
"I will. It will probably take two months to finish this. I promise I will be back in ten weeks at most. I will always come back to you. I love you." He glanced down at her, and Akane inwardly gasped. In an instant his eyes had gone from cold diamonds to vivid pools of water. Gazing into them, she felt herself slipping away. She was still touching his cheek, the skin burning her hand and sending a fire across her nerves. Pulling slightly away from his chest she tilted her head and gently guided his head down to hers.  
She never broke eye contact until his face was a few inches from her, then she closed her eyes and pressed up against him, their lips brushing lightly. She felt Ranma stiffen at first and pull away, but a moment later he was leaning back into her, their lips touching lightly, sending chills across her skin and down her spine.   
Another tentative kiss followed, but this time she pulled him tighter against her, lengthening the contact, increasing the pressure and heat between their bodies. A wave of heat passed through her body as she kissed him, her arms slipping around his neck and holding him tightly as his lips slid across hers.  
Around her the world disappeared as she lost her self in the intimate press of their bodies, the sensual play of his lips on hers, the sweet taste of his kiss. She reveled in the shivering pleasure his hands left as they caressed her back and stroked her hair. She was no longer in her room but was floating in the clouds above, wrapped around her lover, giving herself to him like clay is given to a sculptor, allowing him to mold her emotions and carry her away.  
Lost in this bliss she was surprised as his tongue gently parted her lips and tentatively caressed her own. An electric shock ran through her body, and she responded in like to him, gently pressing back against his exploring tongue and then slipping past his to share the intimate kiss with him.   
It was like nothing she had ever experienced. A shiver of delight ran down her spine as he caressed her tongue and at times sucked gently in response to her exploring. Closing her eyes, she allowed him to lead her as the world disappeared once again and she was falling within herself. Only their intimate sparring, his ragged breath on her face when they released the kiss long enough to breathe registered in her conscious mind. A warm sensation was growing in her stomach and then slowly began to spread across her body gathering speed and washing over her before starting once more in her stomach.   
Akane could feel her heart pounding in her chest beating in time with Ranma's own. In her ears, their shallow breaths echoed as he caressed her skin. The sensations were driving her wild, igniting her entire body on fire as his hands roamed across her body, touching, caressing. The intoxicating scent of sweat mingled with his distinctive odour simply deepened her response. Deep inside her mind she knew what was going to happen, the same thing she had dreamed of since their first time, and she realized she wanted this more than anything as both a confirmation and an act of her love for him.   
Slowly she pulled him down on top of her as she reclined back on her bed. She ran her hands along his back, feeling the tight play of muscles, but then he was pulling away from her, pushing himself off of her, leaving her empty and incomplete. She snapped her eyes open to see a wild-eyed Ranma staring down at her. He was shaking his head nervously, looking at her as if she was a leper.  
Disappointment filled her and was quickly followed by anger and sorrow, but before she could speak her mind, Ranma spoke. "I-I, gods I almost did it again. I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to. Can you ever forgive me?"  
"Ranma, what are you talking about?" Instinctively she knew the problem lay with him and not her. The wild look in his eyes she had only seen twice before, once when he was kneeling in her room and before that as he fled from her in the forest, told her so. For the first time a few pieces of the puzzle that was Ranma snapped into place and she found a part of him laid bare before her eyes. What she discovered both worried her and filled her heart.  
Deliberately she rose from the bed until she was kneeling before him and snaked her arms around his neck. He pulled back slightly, but she refused to let him go. She kissed him again. It was soft and reassuring with no threat of the intimacy she realized Ranma feared. "Akane, I..."   
"Shh!," she answered pressing a finger against his lips. "Don't talk, just listen." He nodded in response. "You've gotta stop this, Ranma. You didn't hurt me. You never did. I wanted to be with you just as much as you wanted to be with me."  
"I know I didn't ra-ra, force you, but I still took advantage of you. I can't let that happen again," he argued, shaking his head vehemently.  
"So you're never going to sleep with me because you're afraid of taking advantage of me? Of using me? Ranma, how can you use me when I want to be with you?"  
"But you're sick," Ranma argued lamely.  
"I've felt fine since this afternoon. I've just been sick the past few mornings, that's all. I'll be fine, especially since I don't have to worry about you." The last words came out softly as she blushed in em- barrassment. She was still uncomfortable openly expressing her feelings, but if she didn't, she feared they would grow apart.  
"If it keeps coming back you should see Toufu-sensei," Ranma admonished her.  
"Stop changing the subject. How I feel is of little importance right now," she answered, but shook her head in denial as a thought crossed her mind. "Actually how I feel is the most important part of this. Ranma you can't force me or use me or take advantage of me when I want to be with you. I want to be with you. I've wanted to for so long," she finished with downcast eyes, a blush colouring her cheeks.  
"You want to have...?" Ranma left the thought unfinished.   
Akane did not feel inclined to answer with words. Lifting her face to his, she kissed him, deepening the kiss as Ranma's muscles relaxed under her hands. She let the kiss die of its own accord, enjoying the warmth and scent of his body while they were embraced.   
When Ranma pulled away from her she found herself swimming in his eyes again. They were still wary, but the desire and love she saw smoldering in them drew her more. His eyes ignited the spark within her that had died with his rejection. Kissing him again, she leaned back until she was laying on her bed, dragging his comfortable weight on top of her as she went.   
"You're leaving me tomorrow," she whispered against his cheek. "Tonight I want to be with you. Please." She kissed his cheek and ran her lips across the rough skin of his jaw as he pressed down into her. She felt his body begin to relax, his hands flow across her body as he nuzzled her neck. She felt his breath vibrate against the sensitive skin of her neck as he whispered, "Anything for you, anything for my Akane." But by then words were not needed.  
  
The room was lit with the dim glow of early morning when Ranma opened his eyes. He tried to stretch but found his arm trapped. Confused he glanced down to find Akane snuggled against his chest, her head cra- dled on his arm. Though at first surprised and worried by her presence, his body and mind relaxed as the previous night's events unfolded in his sleep fogged memory.  
Sinking back into the pillows and warm sheets, he pulled her warm body tightly against him and soaked in the peace that flowed from her closeness. Even after their night together, the sweet scent of her hair still surrounded him. Closing his eyes, he rested his chin on her hair as his hands gently caressed her body.  
For the first time in his life, he felt whole and fulfilled. It was not only because he had made love to her, but that was part of it. Though they had been together once before, this time it had opened a different world inside of his soul. At the moment he remembered little of the physical side of the night. Although her body was familiar under his hands, he could not tell what they had done besides make love. It had gone beyond physical pleasure for him. For a time they had been one; two souls, intertwined completely, submerging their identities until Ranma and Akane had not existed as separate people.  
That completeness was with him even now, and he was reluctant to remove himself from her arms. If it was possible, he would have remained beside her for the rest of the day, but he knew he had things to do. It was still hard to force himself to move, though. More than anyone he understood how long it would be before he saw her again. He had promised ten weeks, but in the back of his mind he was expecting to be gone at least three months, but it was worth it. Three months was a small price to spend his life with Akane.  
With that in mind he slowly untangled Akane from his arms, and slipped from the bed. She mumbled when he finally slid out of the bed causing him to halt and glance back at her. She was reaching for him. He saw her hand search the bed and pillow next to her. After a moment she stirred a little and opened her eyes. "Ranma?" She called out looking at the empty space next to her. "Ranma!" There was fear in her voice this time as she turned to him. Ranma watched as relief flooded through her face when she found him standing beside her bed.  
Although he would have preffered slipping away quietly, after seeing Akane's reaction to his absence, he felt lucky that she had woken. He did not want to hurt her anymore. "I've gotta get going," Ranma explained as he began searching her room for his clothes.   
"Just like a man to sleep and leave," Akane answered.   
Ranma, busy pulling on his boxers, missed the playfulness in the reply. "You know I've gotta go," Ranma explained. "If not because I need to train Mousse and make sure Shampoo has no claim on me, then because of this." He held up his bandaged hand.  
"I was only teasing," Akane answered in a hurt voice.  
Her tone halted Ranma as he was pulling on his dark trousers. He looked up at her and saw the dew of tears in her eyes. Idiot, he berated himself. Quickly pulling on his pants, he grabbed his shirt as he went to her bedside. "I'm sorry, Akane. I've just got a lotta things on my mind right now." He kissed her forehead. "I promise I'll be back."  
"But what if you don't? What if you get hurt, or d-d-die?" He could hear the fear in her voice and did not know how to react to it. He knew there was very little chance of him dying. She had to realize that. Besides he had promised, and she knew he had never broken his word. How much more did she want from him?  
"I'll crawl back and die in your arms then. Besides, no one can beat me in a fair fight." he answered lightly, but changed his tone as he saw her worried expression. "No matter what, Akane. I'm coming back. How could I not? You're all I have now." He pulled her tightly against him and held her. He could feel the warmth of her body pressed against his bare chest, her heart pounding rapidly in her breast. For a moment he wanted to join her in bed and show her how much he loved her, but he did not have time. There was also the fact that he was still hesitant about such things. He could not bring himself to make an advance on her, and last night had been more than satisfying for him; so why not for her also?  
"I trust you," Akane whispered against his chest. "You'd never break a promise. Just try and hurry. I'll be waiting for you, Ran-chan."  
Ranma smiled and pulled away from her reluctantly. "I'll write or something," he promised as he slipped on his shirt and then tied the pouch that held the idol around his waist.  
"Baka!" Akane rebuked him, "Where are you going to find a mailman in China or wherever you're going? You are so dense sometimes."  
Ranma shrugged. "Maybe I'll see Ryouga. If I was on the moon, I wouldn't be surprised if he showed up."  
Akane threw a pillow at him which he dodged. "Leave Ryouga alone. What has..." Akane stopped as she grimaced.  
Ranma was back by her side in an instant. "Are you okay?"  
She nodded her head and gave him a wan smile. "I'll be fine. I guess I wasn't completely over that flu. Don't worry it comes a goes. See." She smiled for him and kissed his cheek. "It's already gone."  
Ranma was torn between conflicting duties. He wanted to stay until Akane was better, but he needed to get going. He only had a month to train Mousse, and he was doubting whether it would be enough. "Go see Toufu-sensei. Promise me you will." It relieved him when Akane nodded in agreement. Although he wasn't completely satisfied, it was enough to allow him to go without feeling he had deserted her.  
"I've really gotta go before anyone wakes up." He kissed her forehead again and then her lips. Akane didn't let him get away with a short peck, but a little delay was worth one of her kisses. When he broke the kiss, he smiled at her. "Ten weeks. I promise, Akane-chan. Now go back to sleep." She smiled at him and slipped under the covers again, curling into the warmth of the bed.  
"I love you, Ranma," she said, her voice already becoming sleepy.  
"Me too," Ranma smiled and disappeared out her door. He quickly padded to his room and slipped inside. His father was curled up as a panda on the floor, snoring loudly. Though he wasn't worried about waking his father, Ranma moved about the room quietly and gathered all of his gear together and then began packing.  
A few minutes later he was descending the stairs. He skipped the creaking third stair by leaping over it and landing softly at the base of the stairs. He then went into the kitchen. He needed food, and decided that the Tendou stores would have to do. What he didn't count on was Kasumi cleaning the kitchen.  
He stopped in his tracks as he saw her and she saw him. Smiling sheepishly, he walked into the kitchen, dropping his backpack on the floor. She returned his smile and took in his traveling clothes and camping gear. "Are you going somewhere, Ranma-kun?" she asked in a sweet voice.  
"I've gotta go to China for a while."  
A sad expression flitted across Kasumi's face for a second. "So you're agreeing to the promises?"  
"No, I've..I'm gonna try and find a way out of them. Please don't tell anyone. I don't want the ghoul to find out. She thinks I'm going along with her."  
"What about Akane? Are you just going to leave her? I don't want her hurt anymore." Kasumi said in a worried voice.  
Ranma blushed and scuffed his foot against the floor. "Ah-I-I already told her. She understands. She doesn't like it, but things will work out. I'm not too worried about it. But I want her to be okay." Ranma stopped speaking for a moment. He did not want to give too much away, but he wanted to be sure that he was not deserting Akane. "Will you make sure she goes to Toufu-sensei. She's still sick, and-and I'm worried about her?" Ranma asked in an embarrassed whisper.  
"Of course I will, Ranma-kun. I'd never let anything hurt,Akane." She gave him a quick glance, causing Ranma to start guiltily. "I hope everything works out. We've missed you these past weeks." Kasumi answered in a cheerful voice, her normal expression of blissful content returning to her face. "Now why don't we get you some food for your trip?"  
"Arigato, Kasumi," Ranma answered a little nevrously as he followed her around the kitchen. Several minutes later he was heading out the back door as Kasumi watched him.  
"Ranma?" He stopped and turned as Kasumi spoke. "If things don't work out. You'll always be welcome here."  
"Arigato, Oneechan." Then he was out the Tendou gate, leaving Kasumi slightly stunned yet smiling and happy. Maybe the situation was not as hopeless as she thought. Time without Ranma could be a blessing in disguise. It was time that she could use to build up her younger sister's confidence, teach her the skills she had always lacked. Her mind filled with new possibilities and bright prospects, Kasumi returned to the kitchen and began to prepare breakfast. Soon a cheerful song could be heard floating on the wind.   
  
Mousse nervously paced back and forth. He was waiting across the gate to the Tendou's backyard as he had been for nearly two hours. Although Ranma had said to meet him there as the sun rose, he had been unable to wander the city of Nerima all night. His steps had finally brought him here, and here he had stayed.  
Now the sun had risen and was starting to climb into the sky. Ranma was late, and it worried Mousse. If Ranma had lied to him and this was just a trick to keep him out of the way, he was going to kill the son-of-a-bitch. Shampoo would be his bride if he had to rip out his own heart and give it to her.  
He continued to pace back and forth his worry and anger increasing to a furious pitch. Just as he was about to explode, the gate to the Tendou household swung open and Ranma stepped out, a backpack slung across his shoulder and soft smile on his lips. Mousse stopped in his tracks and starred at Ranma, relief flooding through him.  
"What took you so long?" Mousse demanded in an irritated voice.  
"I had to say a few goodbyes," Ranma answered with a casual wave of his hand. "C'mon, we've gotta get going. We only have a month and then I've gotta be in Hong Kong."  
"Why?"  
Ranma held up his bandaged hand. "I made a blood promise to Cologne to be in Hong Kong in a month. If I hadn't, who knows what might've happened."  
"I see. You're smarter than you look, Saotome."  
"Thanks," Ranma answered dryly, "Just watch your mouth. I don't wanna hurt you, I wanna make you a better fighter. You're my student now, and a little respect is in order."   
"Gomen, Ranma," Mousse apologized, "You were late, and I was angry."  
"No prob," Ranma answered, "But we've gotta get going." With that Ranma settled his backpack in place and began to walk away. Mousse quickly grabbed his small pack and followed.  
"Where are we going?"  
Ranma shrugged his shoulders. "Wherever. We'll wander and train until we get to Hong Kong, then you'll fight Shampoo."  
"If you say so," Mousse responded. Unlike Ranma, he was not certain things would be that easy. He understood the Amazons much better than Ranma ever could, and because of that he knew that eventually problems would arise, slight flaws neither of them could hope to guess at, and only he could possibly understand. Despite his misgivings, he was not about to shatter Ranma's illusions. There were contests that he was unable to win unless he improved. If he wasn't trained by Ranma, he would never have a chance. He needed this training more than anything, so he remained silent and followed his new teacher as they left Nerima.  
  
Opening the door, Akane stepped into the waiting room of Toufu- sensei's clinic. She was relieved to see the room empty, mostly because she was using her lunch hour to see Toufu and because she was embar- rassed to seek him out for something as harmless as the flu. Kasumi, however, had insisted that she go see Toufu. Akane was sure Ranma had told Kasumi that she was not feeling well, and although it annoyed her, it felt nice to have someone worry over her like that.   
Even if it was because of concern for her well-being, she did not want to be here. She had been sick before and a little nausea was not going to get her down. Besides hadn't she felt a little better this morning? Unlike the day before she hadn't thrown up, although she had to fight the feeling down. It wasn't a marked improvement, but it was an improvement. She had been able to make herself go to school, despite the lingering queasiness that had lasted much of the morning. So what was the problem?  
Maybe she stayed because she wasn't sure there wasn't a problem. Or maybe it was because Mio and Yuka had commented on how green she looked. Whatever had prompted her, whether Kasumi and Ranma, or her friends, she had come and she knew it would be silly to leave now. Besides she was getting tired of being sick. A little medicine wouldn't hurt.  
With this in mind, she entered the pristine waiting room and sat down on a cushioned chair, nervously grabbing a magazine. A few moments later Toufu-sensei came out of one of the back rooms, and smiled at her. "How are you doing, Akane-chan?" he asked as he walked over to her. Akane hurriedly droped the magazine and looked up at Toufu-sensei.  
As always, Toufu was dressed in his plain gi, open at the chest to reveal a triangle of slightly tanned skin. He carried himself confident- ly with an easy graceful stride, his hands moving fluidly by his side. From experience, Akane knew how skilled those hands were, soft and gen- tle yet strong as they tended her hurts. It was those hands and the smiling face that had drawn her to him, but that was before Ranma had entered her life. Her affection for Ranma didn't deter her affection for him, or her gratitude. According to Ranma, she owed Toufu his life. For that and much more, he was and always would be very special to her.  
"I wanted to thank you, for Ranma," she said blushing a little under his knowing gaze.  
"I like him too, Akane-chan," he answered, placing a hand on her shoulder, "And he did not deserve that."  
"I know. It's just that..I'm sorry for doubting you," she blurted. "I wasn't thinking right. I shouldn't have said what I did. You were right. There always is hope." She could feel her eyes begin to mist. "He came back to me. He said Cologne wanted him dead, and you saved him. I can't thank you enough."  
"I'm a doctor, Akane," Toufu answered as he sat beside her, his arm encircling her shoulder. "If I don't look after you both and help you, than I don't serve a purpose. Now why don't you tell me why you came here. Ranma was already here. He thanked me enough for both of you."  
Akane smiled shyly. "I could never fool you, Toufu-sensei. Ranma and Kasumi wanted me to see you. I've sorta been sick, and they were worried."  
"Well, why don't you come in the back, and I'll take a look at you," Toufu suggested as he pulled her to her feet.  
"No really, I'm fine," Akane protested. "It comes and goes that's all."  
"Why don't you let me decide that, Akane-chan. It is my job after all," Toufu admonished her as he led her into an examination room. She allowed him to guide her to the table and then she hopped onto it of her own accord as he went about the room gathering his equipment.  
"What is wrong exactly? Do you have a fever or is it just exhaus- tion, or something else?" He asked as he grabbed a stethoscope and op- thomoscope from one of the many drawers.  
"I'm tired a lot, but I think that's from these last few weeks. I guess it's the nausea I don't like."  
Toufu laughed a little. "Most people don't like nausea, Akane- chan. Are you feeling sick right now?" he asked as he walked over and began to check her lymph nodes.  
"No. It only seems to come in the morning and sometimes at night. Yesterday I didn't feel better until the afternoon. I even threw up a few times, but I was worried about Ranma. No one knew where he was."  
"Worry sometimes upsets the body, but I've never heard of it coming and going like that. There are a few things that might cause that and one or two that definitely would. Whatever it is, I don't think it is the flu or worry, especially since none of your lymph nodes are swollen."  
"Then what's the matter with me?" Akane asked in a fearful voice. A thought suddenly entered her mind. Her mother had been sick a lot before she died, throwing up and complaining of nausea and dizziness, being too tired to work in the house. "It's not what my mother..It couldn't be that, could it?" She began to tremble uncontrollably.   
Toufu grabbed her shoulders. "Don't overreact. I seriously doubt you have cancer. What your mother had doesn't show up until it is too late, and I've been testing you girls every year. None of you seem to have inherited it. So don't overreact. There are a lot of simple solu- tions. Now all I want are a few more answers and then I'll run some tests, and we'll know what's wrong. Okay?"  
"Hai," Akane answered with an embarrassed blush.  
"Have you been eating regularly?" Akane nodded. "How about sleep? Have you gotten enough?" Akane nodded again. Toufu frowned a bit and then asked another question. "When was your last period?"  
"About two weeks ago, I think. It was all so confusing with what was going. But I don't remember it a week ago, and three weeks ago was when Ranma got out of the hospital, just before all this happened. It had to have been two weeks...Oh god!..I..last night..Ranma and me...we didn't use any protection!"  
Her outburst stopped Toufu's scribbling and he looked at her. "You've been sleeping with Ranma?"  
"Just twice," Akane hurriedly explained, her mind still whirling from the sudden shock. "Five weeks ago and last night, but last night we didn't...I could be.." She couldn't help the tears that came to her eyes and spilled down her cheeks.  
"Akane, I wouldn't worry about last night. You've been under a lot of stress and that generally throws off your cycle. You've always been regular, haven't you?" She nodded her head absently, too worried to hear the uncertainty in Toufu's voice. "Let me just get a few samples and I'll test them, okay? I'll have this problem tracked down in about an hour." Numbly, Akane nodded her head and taking the proffered cup from Toufu, made her way to the bathroom.  
  
It was Ranma's fault. Everything was Ranma's fault. His curse, his bad luck, his inability to confess his feelings and now he was again lost because of Ranma. Even if Ranma had not been at the Tendou dojo, it was still his fault. By being gone he had forced Ryouga to go and look for the bathroom so he could change back into a man and tell Akane how he truly felt. That had been four weeks ago, and he still hadn't found the bathroom yet, only a famished sumo wrestler's cooking pot, and that had to be Ranma's fault too!  
Deep down he knew he was being irrational, but then again ration- ality and Ranma were not close friends. Besides, four weeks was longer than he had been lost since he had traversed the length and breadth of China and Japan to find Nerima and Ranma a year and a half ago. Four weeks in which his beloved Akane was left in the presence of Ranma where she could be hurt and mocked and made just plain miserable. He hated it when he was lost. During those times, Akane had no protector, no confidant. Being lost was almost like betraying her, and betraying her burned like a fire-brand in his side.   
Growling in frustration, he took a quick glance up to see where he was. Turning his head to the left he saw shops and people as the Neko- hanten passed by on his right. He then craned his neck to the right as he turned a corner and began walking down another unfamiliar street. Why was he cursed with this infernal sense of direction? He had no answer to that one, so it had to be Ranma's fault.   
Cursing Ranma under his breath, Ryouga continued to wander Nerima until he was sick of walking and dizzy from hunger. Sitting down against a fence, he pulled out the last of the dried rations he had been eating since his money had disappeared two weeks ago.  
Biting down on the bland victuals, he mulled over his problems. It was not just Ranma that had his emotions wound tighter than a spring and his mind a chaotic whirl of uncertainty. For the longest time he had been doubting his love for Akane because of a small girl named Akari.   
It stupefied him more than anything. He knew he cared for Akane, but when he thought of Akari he felt the same warm glow within himself. At moments like that he almost envied Kunou who had given into the madness and stopped dealing with his problems. Ryouga knew it would be easy to do such a thing, but he also knew what Akane's reaction would be if he became like Kunou, and he could only guess at Akari's. So he continued to let his problem spin around him and he did nothing about it, hoping it would resolve itself.  
Yet six months had passed since he had meet Akari, and nothing had come of it. She claimed to love him, she was willing to wait for him and was always ecstatic when he stumbled upon her home. But Akane had won his heart first, and although she did not know of his curse, he knew she adored her P-chan and eagerly awaited his return. But what about him? Whenever he returned she took it in stride. She would wave hello and smile at him. Sometimes she'd stick up for him against Ranma, and she had been interested in his adventures when they had been together at his home, even though Ranma had ruined it with his dumb disguise.  
Once again this thoughts turned to Ranma and he smashed a crater into the asphalt road with his fist. Always Ranma. He just wanted a moment alone with Akane so he could express how he felt. Maybe she did love him or care for him enough to give him a chance. That was all he wanted, a chance, but there was no chance form him. By being her confi- dant, he knew, despite how much he tried to deny it, that she genuinely cared for Ranma, but how about him? Was there a place for Hibiki Ryouga in her heart? That is what he wanted to find out.  
If there was, he knew he would pursue her to the ends of the earth and find a way to defeat Ranma. If she didn't, he knew he would be happy with Akari, but he still loved Akane, had loved her first and would always care for her. Why didn't she see that?   
He sighed and put away the rest of his rations. One thing traveling had taught him was to conserve food. He did not know when he might get another supply so he tried to make what he had last and pick up more whenever he could.  
He knew sitting here was not going to help him find Akane. Nor was it going to end his problems any sooner. Pushing himself to his feet, he straightened his pack and raised his head to choose a direction to proceed in. What he saw stopped him though. The Tendou Dojo stood before him in all its quaint glory.   
A wave of joy swept through him. Tonight he'd get to sleep with his beloved Akane-chan, and maybe he would get a chance at besting Ranma. He still owed Ranma one too many scores to let him go off easy. Leaping into the Tendou backyard, he stowed his gear in the dojo and quickly splashed himself with cold water before venturing into the house.  
With Ryouga, however, it became a real adventure as he traversed the house from one end to the other, top to bottom, searching in vain for his owner's' bedroom. After wandering into the closet for the fifth time, he bweed in frustration and plopped his rump on the floor in the middle of the hallway. Waiting for Akane was the best thing he could do. He was not going to take the chance of getting lost again.  
Kasumi found him like that an hour later when she almost tripped over him. "Bwee!" Ryouga squealed in fear, as Kasumi, who was carrying a laundry basket, planted a foot an inch in front of his head. The reaction was predictable. Kasumi jumped backward dropping the clothes basket beside Ryouga, spilling clean clothes over him.  
"Oh, I'm sorry, P-chan," Kasumi exclaimed as she quickly began to pick up the clothes. Ryouga squealed his own apology and tried to shake off the annoying article of clothing that was wrapped around him.   
Kasumi turned to face him as he squealed and began laughing as she saw what the little pig was struggling with. "That doesn't suit you at all, P-chan." Ryouga found himself lifted as he tried to remove the straps that were wrapping around his small legs, missing Kasumi's state- ment. He did not miss the bra she disentangled from him, however.  
Blushing furiously, even for a pig, he scrambled out of Kasumi's grip, accidentally scattering the clothes once more. "Now you're being a nuissance, P-chan. I can't have you ruining my work all day long. I think you'd be better in Akane's room." Ryouga nodded furiously, agree- ing with Kasumi as she motioned for him.   
He went to her, and she picked him up. Cradling him in her arms, she took him upstairs and depositied him on the bed. "You stay here, P-chan. I'll get you some food andsome thing to drink," she said as she turned to walk from the room. She stopped at the door though and looked back. "I'm glad you came back, P-chan. It's going to make Akane very happy, and she needs something to cheer her up, especially with what is going on." The door closed, locking P-chan in Akane's room, completely confused by Kasumi's words and just as worried.  
  
Nervously, Akane sat on the edge of the examination table and twiddled her thumbs as her eyes moved about the room fixing on nothing but noticing everything. She felt sick to her stomach and worry and ner- vousness were sending her insides turning as her mind whirled in fright. She wanted to get out of the clinic and just run until everything dis- appeared, but she couldn't she had to know what was wrong, if she was... She violently shook her head. She wasn't. She had had her period. But she wasn't sure anymore.  
After Toufu had left her alone, she had begun doubting her own memory. She had thought she had had it, but the last few weeks had been so confusing that she could not determine whether she had or hadn't. And if she had had it, what about last night. She and Ranma hadn't used pro- tection. She hadn't even thought about it. Could she be? Was she? She didn't want to know.   
She wanted to deny it, to make it go away. But the chance and facts remained, and she was terrified that she knew what the answer was. For an hour those thoughts swam in her head, causing her unending torture and doubt. Where was Toufu? How long could it take? Maybe she was just sick, or maybe it was something like cancer. How could he know for sure? But maybe it was just nerves and nervous tension.  
She hoped it was the latter. She did not want to have to deal with any of the others. Especially by herself. She wouldn't have Ranma. He was gone for almost three months. She did not even know where he was going except Hong Kong, and finding a person in Hong Kong would be impossible. So she was left behind to suffer on her own. It scared her more than anything ever had.   
"Just please let it be nerves," she whispered over and over again. But it did not help, and the tension continued to mount until she felt as if she was going to burst, and then the door clicked open.   
Fearfully, she faced the door and watched Toufu-sensei walk into the room. Her heart dropped as she saw his face drawn up in worry and almost sorrow. She was already shaking her head as he spoke. "I'm sorry, Akane. You're pregnant."  
She felt her world begin to spin as her voice choked out a stran- gled sob. She couldn't be. She couldn't be pregnant. But she saw the serious look on Toufu's face, the pity in his eyes. Her emotions broke and she began sobbing uncontrollably into her hands.  
Dimly, she felt Toufu embrace her and begin to rock her back and forth, but she wasn't interested. "I'm pregnant" kept repeating itself over and over in her mind as if it were a judgement cast against her. She was pregnant and Ranma wasn't there. She was alone again. She was lost. She didn't know what to think or do and so just clung to Toufu and cried her heart out in fear, desperation, and despair.  
  
Author's Notes:  
  
Don't look at me like that. You all knew it was coming. I dropped enough hints. I practically beat you over the head with it. So I had to do it...well maybe I didn't have to do it, but it would have been silly to end it with "Akane you've got a rare case of the flu...." But the original premise of the story was to deal with an Akane pregnancy, and although it is now just another part of the story, I don't want to change it because then I'd have to rethink all of my future chapters. And you don't want me to do that, do you? Don't answer that. It was rhetorical.  
What is there to talk about? Well as always I'd like to thank my pre-readers. They are doing a great job and helping me find the problems in this mess. Believe me it is a mess.  
As you've probably guessed by now, I have a little more realistic view of the characters, or maybe a fantasy novel view. I like to find out why they are like this and so I'm changing the characters as I go along and creating backgrounds that seem consistant with the characters. Of course some of these backgrounds I'm pulling outta my arse, but not in a bullshit way. I'm trying to stay true to the characters, but at the same time I'm trying to give them a depth that just sin't there. We all know that Akane is violent and Kodachi insane and Kunou kinda insane and all the others, but why? And that is one of the questions I'm trying to answer in my series. That is one reason you might see Ranma as less of a boy in my story(that and the fact that he's had a lot happen to him), and Akane less prone to violence at times(note the at times). Some characters will remain more true because I just can't decide how to explain them yet.   
If some of you are wondering why I didn't put a lime warning or someting like that in the begining. It is because this is a drama, and I've found that drama is real life and I shouldn't have to make a disclaimer. Violence, hatred, language, death, heartache, love, sex, and hundreds of other interactions make up our lives and as such I think I can not worry about saying this section is dark, or this is sad or this has sexual situations. As a whole, you should expect that from my work. I will guarantee one thing. There won't ever be a full lemon scene in my story. At least I can see no place where one is needed. And I guess that is the key. Is what I write needed to the story. And I say yes even if some ight disagree and say that it is not, but I believe in life and life is not a bright cheerful place with super-deformed people running around catching butterflies. Sounds boring doesn't it. Any way consider this Author's Note as my discalimer for the entire series.   
Expect the unexpected, anticipate the worst, hope for the best and just enjopy the tale I weave.  
  
Thanks for your time and the interest in my story.  
  
Joseph Ashira Kohle  
  
"To write is easy, to write well is difficult,  
To write and inspire is a gift"  
"To write is to see the Pattern of Human thought"  
  
-words to myself  
  
----*----*----*----*----*----*----*----*----*----  
All rights and priveleges to Ranma Nibunnoichi   
belong to Rumiko Takahashi. The characters of her   
series are used without her permission for the   
purpose of entertainment only. This work of fic-  
tion is not meant for sale or profit.   
  
All original characters are the creation of the  
author. All copyright privileges to these chara-  
cters are reserved for the author.  
  
This story is a product of the author's hard work   
and imagination. Do not modify, add to, or make   
use of any part of this work without the author's   
knowledge and consent. Please feel free to archive   
this work.   
  
Comments and criticism are welcome.   
Written by Joseph A. Kohle, (c) 1997.   
Send all comments to Ashira@worldnet.att.net  
Find my fanfics at   
http://www.geocities.com/Tokyo/Flats/index.html 


	14. Vol 4 Chap 1

DISCLAIMER: Ranma Nibunnoichi is the property of Takahashi Rumiko, Shogakukan Inc, Shonen Sunday Comics, and Viz Video. It is used without their permission and is not intended for profit but only for the enjoyment of fans of the Ranma series. All characters within this fic that are not the property of the above mentioned are copyrighted to the author, Joseph Kohle, January 1997. This work of fiction is the result of the author's hard work and is for the enjoyment of others. Please do not change, modify, or use any segment of this story without the author's knowing and written consent. Feel free to archive this work.  
  
************************************************************************   
  
Meiyo Ai soshite Nikushimi  
  
A Ranma Nibunnoichi Fanfic  
by Joseph Kohle  
  
Part IV: Separate Paths  
Chapter I The Pictures We See  
  
-- 1 --   
  
After Kasumi left, P-chan sat silently on the bed trying to figure out the older Tendou daughter's words. What was going on? And why was it upsetting Akane? Both questions were a quagmire for his mind, sucking him further down with each sluggish step forward. Having been gone four weeks, he had no inkling of what could be happening. With Ranma and the insanity that followed him like a bear followed honey, it was impossible to even hazard a guess at a situation, so he did not even try. When Akane came back, he knew his questions would be answered. She told her P-chan everything.  
So P-chan climbed to his stubby legs, padded over to Akane's pillow, and pushed at the blankets on Akane's bed with his snout, burrowing a small nest in the sheets. Curling up in the nest, he rested his head on the edge of one of her pillows. Snorting contentedly, he breathed in Akane's distinctive scent. Something wasn't right. He burrowed his nose in the sheets and inhaled deeply. It wasn't just her scent on the bed.  
Although Akane's held preeminence over the other scents, hers was mingled in with two others which were still strong because they were fresh. One of them he could recognize as Ranma's. As a pig he had been held enough by Ranma in both of his forms that he could recognize his odour. It was not uncommon for Ranma's scent to be on Akane's bed, since Ranma often requisitioned the bed when he and Akane studied together. P- chan, therefore, ignored it.   
It was the third scent that puzzled him. He had never smelled anything like it. It was a rich, musky scent that permeated the sheets and, though it was more similar to Akane's scent, it also reminded him of Ranma. Although the scent wasn't unpleasant, it's presence still confused him. What could have caused it?  
With a questioning grunt, he jumped from the bed and began rooting around Akane's room, looking for the source. Knowing the mayhem that revolved around Ranma, he deduced that it could be anything, and he wanted to make sure it wasn't something dangerous to Akane like a drug that would make her susceptible to Ranma, or, perhaps, it was another one of Akane's and Ranma's fathers schemes to get them together. If it was, he was determined to find it and crush the patriarch's misplaced hopes.  
He poked his snout into every corner of Akane's room. He rooted through her closet, under her bed, and even in her desk drawers and bookshelf, but he could find nothing out of place. To make matters even more difficult, once he was away from the bed, he lost the scent and could only smell Akane on everything.   
He was digging through a box of candy Akane kept under her bed when Kasumi returned. At first he didn't notice her, he was too busy making sure the smell was not coming from a piece of candy Akane might eat. Because of that, he squealed in fright as Kasumi's hands grasped his body and lifted him from the floor. "If I knew you were that hungry, I would've hurried," Kasumi said as she set him back on the floor and placed a dish of vegetables and another bowl of water on the floor, "but you shouldn't eat candy. It's not good for you. These are much better. Now be good, Akane should be home soon."  
With that she left, and P-chan was alone with a bowl of raw vegetables. Snorting in disgust, he bounded back to Akane's bed and the mysterious scent. If there was one thing he hated as much as Ranma, it was being treated like a pig, even when he was one. Akane didn't treat him like a pig. She treated him like a person. She feed him pieces of meat, seasoned vegetables, and even rice balls on occasion. There was no way he was going to demean himself by eating like a pig.  
With his nose held disdainfully in the air, he returned to the nest he had made. He was tired, frustrated, and slightly annoyed at himself for going on that pointless search. So what if Akane's bed had a different smell in it. It wasn't like there could be much importance attached to it. Maybe it was just a new perfume she had been wearing, or maybe she had spilled something, or Ranma had while in her room. Most likely Ranma, P-chan decided as he snarled as fiercely as a pig could.  
He couldn't prove Ranma had anything to do with the defilement of Akane's scent, but P-chan blamed Ranma for everything on basic principle and hated him because of it. But what was the point of fuming over Ranma when Akane was in trouble? At least he thought she was in trouble. Kasumi had not painted a picture of a happy Akane with her words, and if Kasumi was worried, P-chan knew there was a very good reason for it.  
The trouble lay in the fact that he was a pig, and pigs by definition never became sympathetic ears. Unless they were cute and the pet of a misunderstood teenage girl, P-chan quickly reminded himself. Yet even then, to be informed of happenings, that girl had to be in the room, they had to be alone, and she had to talk. All three were quite impossible to achieve given the fact that Akane was somewhere in Nerima and not in her room with him.  
P-chan sighed and sank back into the sheets. He considered himself Akane's self-appointed protector; however, it vexed him that he was unable to fulfill that duty when it was most needed. No matter what, it always seemed like he would arrive after the fact, helpless except to give support to a stricken or angry Akane.   
This in itself was enough to fuel his rage against Ranma, who was invariably the cause, directly or indirectly, of all of Akane's misfor- tune. As her self-appointed protector, he assumed he had an honour-bound duty to seek out and challenge Ranma for Akane's sake. So why was he sitting here? Should he not be out searching for Ranma? Challenging him? Defeating him?   
If he did that, he reminded himself, he would be leaving Akane when she needed someone. He could not, would not do such a thing. If she needed him he would be there, he decided. Ranma would always be there, waiting to fight him, but Akane, who needed his sympathy and reassuring presence, would suffer if he allowed his hatred to rule him. As her protector, he had two duties, to defend her and to comfort her. If she was in pain, it was the latter that held. After he comforted her, then Ranma would fall under his hand like wheat under a scythe.  
With his decision made, he curled up and waited for Akane. He did not have to wait long. Just as he was getting comfortable he heard the floor boards creak and the door slowly opened inward. P-chan's eyes went to the front of the room and waited patiently as the door swung open to reveal Akane standing dejectedly in the hall.  
Ranma and revenge disappeared from his thoughts like a candle's flame in the wind. Akane stepped gingerly into the room and nudged the door with her foot. It swung shut behind her, leaving a small opening to the hall. Akane didn't notice. Obviously, something had happened to her. Her head was bowed, her arms wrapped about her stomach protectively. Her steps were faltering and unfocused often coming too close together as if she were drunk.   
Like a somnambulist, she didn't seem to notice or care, only taking a few steps into the room before stopping at the end of her bed. Her eyes had not once left the floor, and now she simply stood like a lost soul, her shoulders shaking. For a few moments she was a statue as P- chan watched, unable to fathom why Akane was like this, too shocked to do anything but watch. Finally, a shudder ran through her body, and she slumped against the wall and slid down to the floor, pulling her knees tightly against her chest.  
Still P-chan was held in place by what he saw, trying to convince himself he had just imagined what he saw. A soft, coughing sound brought him to reality though. Scrambling to his feet, he barreled down the bed and leaped off it. Landing on the floor, he padded up to Akane and nudged her exposed shin with his snout, softly grunting in sympathy and confusion. When she didn't notice him, he bweed worriedly and put his front hooves on her shin.   
Lifting her head from her knees, Akane looked down at him. Bloodshot and puffy eyes stared at him. Tear streaks covered her cheeks, and he could see fresh ones pooling in the corner of her eyes. For a moment she only looked at him, and then with a low sob, he was lifted from the ground and crushed against her chest.  
P-chan could hear Akane's heart racing, her breath rasping in her throat as she began to cry. Hot tears splashed on his black skin and ran into his bandanna. With a comforting grunt, he craned his neck to rub his snout against her chin, hoping to help her in some small way. At his touch, the floodgate burst open.  
"P-P-P-chan," she cried, pulling him tighter against her chest, "I-I don't...don't know wh-what to do. I-I can't-can't be. Not when he's gone." P-chan was lost. He could only weather the storm of her tears and strangled words as they poured forth on him. He could tell she was hurting deeply, but she was not explaining. He just had to hope that at some point she would.  
"Wh-why did he leave me? He could've trained him here. He could've stayed with me...I can't...not without him." Her words disappeared again as she began sobbing, her body shuddering with each gulping breath.  
"I can't deal with this. I'm too young. What about my father? We're not even engaged anymore, and I'm...I'm...I can't have a baby!" she wailed as she buried her face in his side, muffling her cry.   
P-chan's mind blanked. He couldn't have heard her correctly. What she was proposing was impossible. Her? Ranma? A...a baby? Turning his face upward into her tear-streaked one, he shuddered as he saw the despair in her eyes, the helplessness, but he refused to believe her. It went against everything he knew of her and had ever suspected of Ranma.   
"What do I do, P-chan? I can't tell my father. I don't even want this. I don't want to have a baby. Not without Ranma, and he's gone. How can I find him in China? I don't even know where in Hong Kong he's going, or where the Amazon village is. What can I do? What will Ranma do? Why did this happen?!" She began to cry again as P-chan listened to his world collapse around him.   
It had to be a dream, but if it was, he knew he'd never wake from this nightmare. She was pregnant. She had been with Ranma. Ranma. He had done this to her. He had brought her to this. She had probably not even wanted to. Not his beloved Akane. No, it had to be all Ranma's fault. He had gone too far this time. Insulting her was one thing. Running off with his other girls' was somewhat understandable. But to defile Akane like this? To use her and then leave her? And to leave for what? To go to China, to the Amazon village where his precious Shampoo was from. This time he had gone to far. This time his actions were unforgivable.   
In a sobbing Akane's arms, P-chan was well beyond reason. His rage burned like a small star, fussing his own humiliations and anger against Ranma with his duty to avenge his Akane into a tempered blade. The fire burned within him, washing away reason, doubt, compassion, only to leave a cold, hard diamond of hate. Ranma would die. If it took him the rest of his life. He would kill the bastard.  
Akane was forgotten as he struggled from her arms and began to race for the door. All that mattered was to find Ranma. No, to find and destroy Ranma. He didn't hear Akane's calls to him, her heartbroken voice as she chased after him. He pushed the door to her room open and bounded down the stairs and out into the backyard. He needed hot water. He needed his weapons. He was going to China, and he prayed the Kami would avert their eyes from Ranma when he found him.  
  
-- 2 --   
  
Slipping her shoes off, Nabiki stepped inside the house and set them in a cubby hole. Stepping from the entry mat, she walked down the hall to the dining area. Through the open shoji, she could see her father and Saotome-ojisan playing their normal game of shogi. From the kitchen, she could hear her older sister making dinner. It was almost too normal for her.   
"Kasumi?" she called out walking into the kitchen.   
"Hai, Nabiki," Kasumi replied. She smiled over her shoulder at Nabiki and then turned back to chopping some carrots.  
"Have you seen Ranma?" Nabiki asked. "We had some business to take care of."   
"No, I don't know where he is," Kasumi answered quickly, tripping alarms in Nabiki's mind. She was about to pursue the matter when Kasumi beat her to it. "Why don't you ask Akane? She mentioned something about him this morning." It was offered cheerfully, but Nabiki had the feeling Kasumi was trying to get out of an unpleasant situation.   
"Are you sure? I mean..."   
Her words were interrupted as Akane's voice could be heard crying out. "P-chan! Don't leave me. P-chan!" Nabiki turned around fast enough to catch a glimpse of a black form darting out of the house and into the yard. A few moments later, a very frantic and disheveled Akane rushed into the dining area, glancing around desperately until her eyes latched on Nabiki. "P-chan? Where did P-chan go?" Nabiki pointed at the open shoji, and her younger sister dashed out of it, nearly bowling over Soun and Genma.  
Glancing over her shoulder, Nabiki saw that Kasumi was contentedly continuing to cook, either oblivious to the goings on or unconcerned about them. Nabiki was betting on the latter, but sometimes she was unsure. She had seen her sister's face, and Akane had been crying. Something was bothering her, and it was obviously not a wayward pig. Maybe a wayward horse, but definitely not a pig.  
With a sinking feeling in her stomach, Nabiki made her way outside to find Akane. She had hoped Ranma would consult her before doing something stupid, but as always, she had underestimated how stubborn, stupid, and down right single-minded he could be.   
It took her only a few moments to find Akane by following her calls for P-chan. Akane had wandered around the house until she was by the dojo, heading for the open gate to the street. She looked distraught as she repeatedly called for her pet. When she saw Nabiki, she ran up to her. "Will you help me find, P-chan? Please, I don't want him gone too."  
Nabiki wanted to say no, but the desperate look in her sister's face convinced her otherwise. "I'll help, but I don't think it will do any good. You know how P-chan is, Akane. He'll come back." Akane gave her a hurt look, and Nabiki, for some inexplicable reason, found herself walking over the neighborhood for the next thirty minutes looking for a pig with about as much luck as Ryouga getting somewhere on time. Nabiki was, therefore, in a foul mood when she returned to the house.   
Walking in the rear gate, she found Akane seated against the dojo, She jumped up as soon as she saw Nabiki. "Did you...?" Nabiki shook her head, and Akane sank back down to the ground. "It's not fair. Why does everyone leave me? What did I do wrong?"   
At her sister's despairing tone, Nabiki lost some of her anger at the wasted time. Feeling sorry, she sat down next to Akane. "No one's left you, sis. P-chan will be back. I'm here, Kasumi's here. We have father and Saotome-ojisan. You have Ranma. What more could you want?"  
"But he's gone. He's off to China, and I'm pre...alone"   
Nabiki missed her sister's quick cover-up in her own building anger. "What?" The exclamation tumbled from her mouth before she could control her surprised anger. "He went to China? And you didn't tell me?"  
"Weren't you listening?" Akane snapped back. "I told you. He left this morning. He went to Hong Kong. I only got to see him for a few hours," she finished softly, almost wistfully.  
Nabiki ignored most of her sister's words, only catching Ranma's destination and when he had left. Her mind was burning in anger and frustration. The idiot had run off without telling her. How the hell was she supposed to keep Cologne and Shampoo occupied while he trained Mousse? And what about all the others? The nerve of him. He had left her his mess to clean up while he flitted away on his walk-about vacation with Mousse.   
"Shimatta!" she seethed between clenched teeth. "Why does he do these things to me?" She turned on her sister. "What else did he say?"  
"I-I don't know. Just that he wouldn't be back for several months." Akane stopped and looked at her sister. "He isn't in trouble, is he?"  
"He will be when I get my hands on him," Nabiki stated flatly as she began to walk from the yard, her sister forgotten in her anger. She was beginning to regret allowing Ranma to railroad her. With him gone, she was in the untenable position of covering his ass. Why couldn't he have waited one day before running off with his pants still down? Didn't he realize how many things had to be set in motion here? She did not even know the time frame. How was she supposed to do this? One thing was for sure. His bill was going to be a large one.  
Behind her, Akane sat unmoving in the grass. She watched Nabiki disappear out of the gate, lost in her own problems. Tears were in her eyes as she stumbled to her feet and ran to her room. There she threw herself on her bed and silently riled against Fate for leaving her alone once more. "Okaasan, where are you?" she sobbed into her pillow, trying to will everything away. Like always, nothing happened.  
  
-- 3 --   
  
Nabiki approached Ucchan's in a more stable state of mind. Her sister's words had caught her off-guard, and that was why she had explo- ded. Although she felt guilty for leaving her sister like that, she knew that Kasumi was better prepared to deal with Akane's moods. Besides, she was not interested in discussing how much her sister missed Ranma. She was glad her sister had found someone, but that someone was causing her more headaches and troubles than a busload of screaming children.  
She wished she could just leave him hanging on his ledge, but she had made a deal with him. He told her the story and she did whatever was necessary to help him. Of course that simply meant keeping Cologne and Shampoo in the dark. Since he had made it harder for her, why could she not make it harder for him? A few carefully dropped hints, a few sold rumours and she was going to make a profit and hopefully teach Ranma a lesson for once in his life.  
The small bell heralded her entrance into Ukyou's well-lit restau- rant. Of the many people who had come to Nerima in Ranma's wake, Nabiki admired only one of them, Ukyou, and even she would not admit it. She saw in the young chef, if not a kindred spirit, than a similar ambition. The girl had been able to carve a business for herself in the often fierce competition between private owners. What was more, she had made a profit from it and gained loyal customers while continuing her education.   
Nabiki knew promise when she saw it, and Ukyou was promising. If she could get her hands on enough money, she would invest in Ukyou. The girl could do wonders if she opened several more restaurants in the Tokyo area. With businessmen's propensity for comfortable restaurants to entertain their clients in, Nabiki knew Ucchan's could grab a hold of that market.   
The clean unassuming environment of the dining room, the well- spaced tables that offered the illusion of privacy while giving the restaurant an open appearance, the tempting aroma of delicious food constantly being grilled by the cute chef and delivered by the even cuter waitress, waiter' Nabiki reminded herself, Konatsu attracted the right kind of crowd. If she could just get the money...  
No, that wasn't it. If she wanted to, she could get the money. The problem lay in the fact that she was unsure of how Ukyou would take a proposition like that. Nabiki knew that the restaurant had only opened, like the Nekohanten, to allow the proprietor to be near her intended. It was not a stable foundation to build a business on, much less several businesses. How could she be sure of Ukyou's intentions? So she let an opportunity slide, waiting for the right moment. With Ranma going to Akane, it was possible that she would get her chance. What she needed to do, however, was to see what Ukyou did when that happened.  
She had already proved capable of sinking to lower levels to get what she wanted. Although Nabiki doubted removing' Ranma was considered less than kosher, she knew that Ukyou was unaccustomed to being given anything, and as such was eminently capable of striving toward and gaining what she wanted. Just like her restaurant. Just like she wanted Ranma.   
It was because of this that her steps had brought her to Ucchan's. She didn't want Ranma out of her control. She was unable to go after him, but Ukyou was another matter. Hopefully dropping the right hints would push her in the right direction.  
As the tinkle of the bell died, Nabiki glanced around the cozy dining area of Ucchan's. "Can I help you?" a young girl's voice asked as the waitress entered the main room.  
"Konban wa, Konatsu," Nabiki answered as she took a table and glanced up. Konatsu was dressed in a baby-blue waitress outfit, cut tight to accent his legs and slim waist. His brown hair was loose and cascaded across one shoulder, obscuring the loose white shirt he wore open at the throat. A carefully placed smile was on his face as he approached her table.  
"Oh hello, Nabiki. What brings you here?" Nabiki recognized careful neutrality in Konatsu's voice. She was used to that tone. Most people deluded themselves into thinking that if they acted passive, she would pass them over. In all actuality, that passiveness was like chum in the water for her.   
"Not much. I just wanted to talk with Ukyou and get something to eat," Nabiki answered as she glanced at the small menu. "How about a Seafood Deluxe?"  
"Sure, I can get the Seafood Deluxe," Konatsu answered cheerfully, "but Ukyou's busy."  
"Oh, I can wait. Besides, it's about Ranma," Nabiki smiled, "and I know she's worried about him." Konatsu's face darkened at the mention of Ranma's name, but said nothing as he went into the back to get her meal.   
As Nabiki had expected, Ukyou brought her meal to her. "What can I do for you, Nabiki?" Ukyou asked as she took the seat across from Nabiki, placing the steaming okonomiyaki between them.  
"Nothing really," Nabiki answered as she began to eat. "This is really good, Ukyou. New recipe?"   
"Uh, yeah...I mean thanks, but...Ranchan?" Ukyou answered flustered as Nabiki calmly ate her food.   
"He's fine," Nabiki answered. "Can I have something to drink?" Ukyou nodded numbly and motioned for Konatsu, who was watching from the kitchen, to bring in some glasses and soda.   
"Wh-what are you here for, Nabiki? And where the hell is my Ranchan?!" Ukyou snapped, finally regaining her composure.  
"China," Nabiki answered.   
"China?" Nabiki winced as Ukyou's voice rose a few octaves.  
"Thanks," she said dryly as Konatsu placed a glass in front of her, shooting her a dirty glare as he walked away, "and yes, he's in China. Or actually going to China. Hong Kong I think."  
"But-but I thought you were going to help him. That's why I tried to help you. And now you let him run off to China?" Ukyou shook her head in distaste.   
Nabiki took another bite and then fixed a level gaze on Ukyou. "I never let' him leave. He wasn't even supposed to go anywhere until we figured everything out, but your' Ranchan is the most thick-headed, dim-witted idiot I've ever dealt with."  
"He's gone to be with Shampoo, hasn't he?" Ukyou asked fearfully, her head sinking to her chest.  
"I really couldn't tell you," Nabiki answered evasively. "He wasn't in a good mood when I talked to him. The only person he said good-bye to was Akane, and she has been upset all day." Nabiki bit down on the last piece of okonomiyaki and quickly emptied her glass of soda. Ukyou made no movement as Nabiki finished her meal, staring at her hands clenched in front of her on the table. "Well, thanks for the food." Nabiki dropped a bill on the table and stood up. "Don't worry Ukyou, you know' what Ranma's like." With that she left the restaurant.  
Outside she glanced up and down the street, undecided about her next step. Things had gone perfectly with Ukyou. She had planted enough doubt to send Ukyou scrambling off after Ranma. That, however, only made sure that Ranma was held up to his end of the bargain. Dealing with Shampoo and Cologne would be a little more difficult. An idea about how she was going to take care of those two had been forming over the past few hours. A certain classmate owed her big time from his gambling losses. His father was in real estate and could possibly help her. The only problem was that she needed a decent sum of money.   
There were several people she could get a decent sum from, but only one was open to unlimited extortion. Despite the distance she would have to walk, it would be worth it. Buying a chilled drink from a nearby vendor, she began to walk through the streets of Nerima. Although there were dozens of available cabs, she was not about to pay the 3000 yen it cost to get to her destination.   
By the time she got there, though, she was regretting that deci- sion. Despite her exercises and her slim figure, she was not in top condition and was breathing hard as she took the last few steps to the main gate. She took several deep breaths, bringing her breathing under control before she knocked. It was never a good idea to start out a conversation at a disadvantage.   
It only took a few moments for the gate to open. "How may I help you?" a soft voice asked from behind the gate.  
"How you doing, Sasuke?" Nabiki answered. "Could you tell Kunou that I'd like to see him?"  
  
-- 4 --   
  
"Ukyou-sama? Are you okay?"   
Konatsu's soft voice floated into her blank mind, bringing her back to reality. Blinking she looked at the empty plate in front of her, the crisp bill laying next to it. Nabiki's words rang in her ears. Like bells pealing in the morning, they would not give her peace. She could only see Ranma wandering to China. Ranma walking into the Amazon village, kneeling before Shampoo. Ranma raising his face and opening his mouth, the words of acceptance...  
"No!" The restaurant snapped into focus as the denial tore through her vocal cords. The table, the plate, the bill, and Konatsu's worried eyes intent on her materialized within her foggy mind.  
"What's wrong, Ukyou-san? Can I do anything? Was it Nabiki?" Konatsu's eyes hardened. "Did she threaten you?" When Ukyou didn't answer, Konatsu stepped away from the table. Shucking his apron, the petite ninja began to storm towards the door.  
Ukyou reacted quickly, grabbing the ninja's arm before he could cause any trouble. "It wasn't Nabiki, Konatsu. She just told me something I didn't want to hear," Ukyou assured her erstwhile suitor.   
Silence fell between them. Konatsu slightly relieved yet worried about Ukyou. He couldn't think of anything to say or ask, and Ukyou's troubled expression offered him no advantage. Ukyou had set the rules for their relationship a long time ago. He was her employee. He worked in the restaurant and was given room and board with a small salary. She would listen to his problems, but never come to him with her own. It was a one-way street between them. He gave love and friendship, yet received nothing in return. So how could he understand what was troubling Ukyou?  
Instead, he tried to ignore her problem and continue about his work. Cleaning Nabiki's dishes away and ringing up her meal only took a few moments though, and soon he was standing against the counter, watch- ing Ukyou's troubled face once more. He wished he could do something, but there was nothing to do. So he watched and wrung his dish rag in frustration.  
Ukyou for her part had sunk into oblivion. She noticed Konatsu cleaning the table and watching her from the grill, but the meaning of those activities escaped her. All thought was submerged as she kept hearing Nabiki's words, wondering what she had meant. Why had Ranma gone to China?   
She did not know, but she could guess. It was the thought of what he might do that scared her. She did not want to lose Ranma. If it was Akane, she might not have been as terrified, but it was Shampoo. That meant Ranma would be in China, out of her reach for the rest of their lives. She would not even have his friendship to tide her over.  
The tinkling of the bell broke her thoughts. She glanced up to see a heavyset man walk in, a smile on his face. He was a regular and waved at Ukyou and Konatsu before taking his table. Sighing, Ukyou pushed away from the table and went over to the grill.   
The man always wanted the same, but as Ukyou looked at the batter and the grill, she could not bring herself to begin making the okonomi- yaki. "Are you sure you don't need any help, Ukyou?" Konatsu asked.  
This time Ukyou, just looked at the grill for a moment. "Can you run the shop for a while, Konatsu?" Ukyou asked. "I-I need to go sit for a spell and think."  
Ukyou didn't wait for Konatsu's answer. She knew her companion would take care of the customers. He was a good cook and could make okonomiyaki almost as well as she could. And with her mind spinning in its quagmire, he probably was better than her, she decided. Turning she left the kitchen and Konatsu and made her way to the stairs and up to her room.  
Pushing the door open, she stepped inside, closed the door behind her, and leaned against it, fighting back the tears. With Ranma gone she had nothing in her life. All she had was this restaurant and her few personal possessions. And what were they worth?  
Looking around the room she could find nothing that made her life worth living. It was a small room, bereft of furniture and decoration. Only a small bed covered in a dark quilt and a wooden chair next to a cheap desk that had been left behind by the former owner. She had no possessions but a few changes of clothes, her bandolier of spatulas, and her memories, all of them residing in a small picture album.  
Sniffling, she went to her desk and pulled open a drawer. Inside was a small leather-bound book with her name emblazoned in gold on the cover. Gently, Ukyou reached inside and removed the album. Cradling the well-worn leather to her bosom, she made her way to her bed and sat on the bed, drawing her legs up until she was sitting Indian style.   
Placing the album on her legs, she ran her hands across the smooth leather, enjoying the feeling of security and comfort it gave her. She knew every picture in it by heart. Each image was branded into her mind as permanently as a tattoo was on skin. This small little album held her life in it. It was her diary. Her dreams, hopes, falls, peaks, her triumphs and failures encapsulated within a few pictures of places and people. Whenever she was troubled, this small album invariably found its way into her hands. Then she could remind herself why she had chosen the paths she had, why she had done what she had done. It put a perspective on her life, a reality of goal and meaning that did not come from what she owned or accomplished but from what she had experienced and endured.  
Absently, her hand flipped open the album to the center of the book. Each page held a picture, and there were no pictures on the backs of any pages. She did not why she had done it that way, but for some reason the solitary pictures had more meaning, more impact than any collage could ever have. In the picture, her father and mother, with her younger brother between them, stood before the family's restaurant. After one glance at the picture, she hastily turned to earlier pages.  
She hated that picture, but could never bring herself to remove it from the album. It was not the picture itself that repulsed her. She loved her parents and brother, at least she had tried to. It was the memory of loss and emptiness that came with it.   
Although they had never spoken it in words, Ukyou knew her parents had been ashamed of her and disappointed because of the humiliation brought about by Genma. She couldn't bring herself to condemn Ranma for what had happened. Wanting to kill him had only come from the pressure her parents had placed on her to regain her honour. "You're not our daughter," they said. "We have no daughter. You're our son from now on."  
"But, Otoosan," Ukyou cried, "how can I marry Ranma as a boy?"  
The slap caught her off guard, causing her to cry out. With tears in her eyes, she looked up to the loving man who had always been there for her only to see her father's eyes burning like Hell's forge. "Never speak that name. He left you. He is an honourless burakumin and has dishonoured our family and our ancestors." There were no more words spoken on the subject. Her father had made her duty clear. She was a son now, an heir who would take vengeance for the slight of their family.  
She had grown up with that. Her mother had tried to comfort her at first, but her father's anger was always there, pushing the family away from her. Somehow they had put the blame as much on her as it had gone on Ranma. The only approval she received was when she trained and acted like a boy. Then her father would watch and nod his head in consent and teach her. But even that disappeared when her younger brother was born.  
The family now had another child to carry on the line. What need did they have of a disgraced daughter? She tried to bear it out, but the loveless life became too much for the lonely nine year old. Everything she did was meet with indifference. If she excelled, they were as indifferent as the mountains. If she failed, they shrugged it off as what was expected from a child such as she. Eventually, she had needed an outlet, and she refused to go against her parents. She had wanted them to love and approve of her, so she turned on Ranma, the only person who had ever been her friend, and began to hate him. It was a major change. She had always blamed Ranma's father up to that point. But the constant badgering and the denunciations against Ranma had gotten to her. It was easier not to resist and to go along with everyone else.  
Even then they did not care. Her hate was simply a way to keep her going; it gave her a goal. She learned her mother's martial style. She watched the attention lavished on her sibling that transcended even her mother's martial instructions. As the indifference continued, the hate and anger against Ranma and her life continued to burn. Finally, the years of indifference and her vengeful anger boiled over, and at the tender age of fourteen, she gave up trying to become accepted as she realized she had to make her own way. She announced that she was going to find Ranma and kill him, thereby gaining back her honour and family.  
"I'm glad you finally decided to do your duty, Son," her father stated and then left the room.   
"Take care." It was the only words her mother gave her. Ukyou left that very night. She knew no one would see her off. She doubted anyone would have missed her if she had just walked away one night.  
Tears were pouring down her cheeks as she flipped the page to an earlier picture. For two years she attempted to find Ranma, nurturing her hatred as if it were a hurt puppy. By the time she reached Nerima, it was a vicious wolf held tightly in check, waiting to be loosed upon Ranma and Genma. Genma felt the wrath of hatred first, but when Ranma came along he held out his hand and tamed her hate with but a word.  
Her eyes fell to the album again. It was an older picture. Ranma was pushing her on a merry-go-round as she leaned back, her mouth open wide in laughter, a swirl of leaves floating by them. Even in the picture, Ukyou could see the exuberant light in Ranma's eyes as he watched his friend. They were the closest, the best of friends.   
Quickly, she flipped the page. She knew the next picture by heart. Her and Ranma in front of their tree, hands on each other's shoulders as they watched each other. She remembered the day that picture was taken. It was the day before Ranma had left. They had just finished their okonomiyaki when Ranma was called home by his father. They always parted the same.   
Ranma walked up to her smiling. He placed his hands on her shoulders. "Ucchan."  
Ukyou repeated the gesture, her hands resting on his shoulders. "Ranchan."  
"Friends?" Ranma asked.  
"Always and forever, Ranchan," Ukyou answered.   
"Itsumo to eien ni, Ucchan," he would repeat, his face lighting up in joy. He hugged her before running home, waving goodbye as he disappeared up the street.  
He hadn't said that when she returned to challenge him. He had either assumed it or cared little about it. She wondered if he even remembered the little ritual or knew how much those words had meant to her. Ranchan and Ucchan, always and forever. That was how it was supposed to be, but now he was running off to China. They wouldn't even be friends anymore.   
The thought was a blow to her. When she had found Ranma after their separation, she had discovered something that she had always lacked throughout her life, acceptance and approval. Ranma took everything that she had lugged into that challenge, the years of change, the festering hatred, the painful memories, and swept them away like they were cobwebs in the attic. He had accepted her as a friend, and given her companionship and love. Sure, it was always the love of a friend, but the love of a friend could grow into the love of a life.  
Over the months though, she had seen that it was not going to be like that. Ranma didn't want her to love him. He seemed to avoid any kind of involvement like that. He sought out her friendship. He wanted her trust and a sympathetic ear, and she handed that to him without reservation. If she was denied his love, she desired his friendship. Without that she would sink back and become useless like she had been for her family.   
Everything had been done for Ranma. The restaurant set up so she could be beside him forever. Her travels and training had been to find him. She had suffered because of him. She deserved at least his friend- ship, and his love, in the end, became a dream she held closer than the hate she had nurtured for years. If he was going to China, she had to stop him. She had to convince him that Shampoo was not right for him. So what about his stupid promise. She had lost her family when he had left her. If he lost his family because he broke the oaths, they could become a family. That was what she wanted.   
Her decision made, she closed her eyes and imagined how beautiful that would be. Slowly, sleep overtook her and she sank back onto her bed. The album slid from her lap to the quilt, a page flipping to show the young Ranma and Ukyou with their arms about each others shoulders, sharing an ice cream as they stuck their tongues out at the camera.  
  
-- 5 --   
  
Kunou Tatewaki, a mountain of undauntable persistence and dubious intelligence, was troubled. Nay, he was not troubled. His mind was a quandary of doubts and morose thoughts that placed him in the throes of a crisis of proportions that would have daunted the greatest minds, hence the dilemma for Kunou. Before him, floating in a small bowl of water, was the source of his troubles, a few wretched petals, slowly withering and dying. They were the remnants of a rose that had repre- sented his love, a rose that had been cast aside with the malicious callousness of a lover slighted by infidelity.  
If that were not enough to bring Kunou to his knees in despair, the visit of his classmate and love's sister, Tendou Nabiki, had brought him much distress. Her words, dearly paid for, indicated that his fortunes had indeed changed, yet he was uncertain whether the kami played into his hand now or, inwardly filled with derisive laughter at his plight, passed him by like one did a wretched beggar.  
Closing his eyes, he ran his hands along the cold metal of the naked katana that lay across his upper thighs. This was a solid thing, an object that had no complications or subtleties of the mind. It was logic, training, and endless, persistent practice. With a katana there were no surprises, only the basic forms, the positions off those forms. Your opponent stood before you, blade at the ready. One would attack, one defend. Mind, spirit, body, and soul all melded with cold steel to turn it from inanimate to a living part of the body. So simple, so unfettered by doubts and uncertainties. Why could life not emulate it?  
Saotome Ranma. That was why.  
The world had begun to turn his way when Saotome had at last been laid low and placed in the hospital. When the news of that joyous occasion had reached his ears, he had been ecstatic that his loves would be free, but then Saotome had returned. With him, however, came the tidings of a broken engagement. Kunou had cared little whether Ranma or Akane had broken the vow. It was the fact that Tendou Akane had been free at last.   
Even when Saotome had stepped in between them and assaulted him without pretext, he was not downtrodden. It was just one more indication that the honourless cur was becoming desperate. So he bided his time and turned his attentions unto his elusive Osage-no-onna. Before his search even began it ended as the miraculous occurred. Saotome disappeared from the Earth. None, not even the larcenous Tendou Nabiki, had known of the disappearance or where the leech had fled. Surely, it was a sign from the heavens that Saotome had conceded to the majestic skills of the Blue Thunder of Furinkan High.   
When his steps had brought him to Tendou Dojo, so that he might bask in the warmth of his love like a tiger sunning upon a rock, he found her whereabouts as elusive as his Osage-no-onna. He waited for over a week, preparing himself each day to face her and gather her love to him like a bouquet of fragrant blossoms. Finally, the destined day dawned, and he saw her lithe form approaching the school she had been astray from for so long. He saw her troubled face and weary steps. Hen, as he stepped forward to assert his love, she had taken it and thrown it back into his face with the most vile of epithets and words.  
For the first time in his life, he was disillusioned. He saw the truth, that she did not love him. No longer was Saotome there to hold her in check and bind her to his nefarious ways. No, she had rejected him of her own volition, and as a knife thrust to the kidneys does, that single revelation brought him to his knees.  
It had been a rare moment of clarity for Kunou. The pain of Akane's words had for a single moment lifted him from the haze he had surrounded himself in, but just as quickly he surrendered to the haze of madness, allowing it to overtake him, drag him down, and drown him.   
It was impossible to deny her words. For each day since, he had attempted to find a crack within her declaration of hatred that would allow him within her heart. There was none, but his determination was never culled by this. There was always a weakness, even in the greatest swordsman.   
Then, in his darkest hour, Nabiki had come to him.  
She brought a tale of Ranma abandoning Akane and heading for China. She brought with her a ray hope, yet the clouds of doubt still darkened the horizon. It was obvious that Ranma no longer held Akane's heart. If he had, he would not have left as he did. Instead the question became whether of not Ranma had influenced his stray love into denouncing him with vituperative words and actions that cut like a sharp blade.   
It was impossible for Kunou to even give credence to the belief that Akane held him in disregard much less hate. It must, therefore, be the work of that wretched Saotome who had, for months, slowly poison the heart of his beloved. That was the answer. It had to be.  
Kunou sighed and raised his face to the pictures of his two loves. Akane in her gi, her eyes burning with fire, hung on his sword hand to give her strength a place of honour. The demure and innocent Osage-no- onna hung above his literate left, the hand he used to compose and arrange flowers and art.   
He had pursued them with a vigor that bordered on inhuman and many times passed beyond that indefinite boundary. Every waking moment had been spent in contemplation of this single goal. He would never admit that it was a goal that was beyond his reach. Bushidou dictated that every goal could be achieved by committing himself fully to the pursuit and final capture of them. He had done that with admiration, rising to meet each challenge with the dignity and reserve that one of his position was required to maintain.   
Observing those symbols of his love, he became uncertain about what he had done. At first Akane's strength and violent denunciations of all affection from him and others had brought him to the conclusion that she desired to be defeated, but was that truly the case? Was it possible that she did not want to be defeated? Did she wish to be won over as his Osage-no-onna wished to be, with words and gestures instead of sword and fist?  
The idea, like the parting of the clouds to reveal the whole starry universe at night, opened a new world to the desperate, would-be samurai. It was apparent to him now where he had gone wrong. His beloved Akane had never desired to be defeated, she wanted to be treated as a woman and not a prize. How many times had she told him that? How many were the denunciations against him for trying to claim her like a prize? He had heard the same many times as she explained the truth, vehemently, to the wretched Saotome and others who wished to have her hand.   
A new world opened within Kunou's clouded mind. He saw what he needed to do as if it were written on the picture of his beloved in front of him. He smiled, the depression of many months lifting from his shoulders. Picking up the bowl in front of him, he emptied it onto the floor. It no longer held significance. His path was set.  
  
-- 6 --   
  
Nabiki walked the darkening streets of Nerima with a satisfied smile on her face. It had been a profitable night. Ukyou set to watch on Ranma and Kunou holding a lighter wallet proved that. It might even be worth treating herself to dinner, but she disliked premature celebra- tion. There were still things to accomplish.  
Although she was still irritated with Ranma, her displeasure had cooled under her successes, and there was more to come. Despite her trepidations, she knew Ranma would return one way or another. Ukyou was just to prove to him how annoyed she truly was. In a way she was looking forward to delaying Cologne. There were several ways she could go about it, but the one that had prompted her visit to Kunou was probably the easiest. She would have to talk to Takezo the next morning and set up the meeting she needed. It was highly improper to approach a businessman directly. She'd allow Takezo to set up the go-en, and then she'd proceed with ease. If everything went right, Cologne would be having some major difficulties, and Nabiki knew she might make enough money to last the family several months. If nothing else that would cover Ranma's costs for keeping im and Akane together.  
Nabiki frowned at the thought. She suddenly remembered the grief- stricken face of her sister. In her rush of anger she had left Akane alone to deal with a problem that should not have been there. If she had spoken with Ranma like she insisted, Ranma must have explained things to her. So why was she depressed? It made no sense. Her younger sister had been almost glowing when she came to the table that morning, maybe a little green but glowing. Making a mental note, Nabiki decided to talk to her sister as soon as possible.  
With one more problem partially solved she started whistling as she walked the streets. Then she saw a familiar acquaintance' roaming the streets ahead of her. She smiled. The night was just getting better and better. "Hey, Takanari!" she called out.   
Her victim flinched at the sound of her voice and cast a nervous glance over his shoulder. Nabiki saw him frantically search the street for an escape and then let his shoulders fall in defeat. Smiling like a cat over a cornered mouse, Nabiki moved in for the kill. Her day was ending better than it had begun, but the game had just begun. Anything could happen.  
  
Author's Notes:  
  
Translator's Notes-  
eien ni - eternally or forever.  
  
itsumo - always  
  
to - and  
  
itsumo to eien ni is therefore - always and forever...   
  
burakumin - the lowest caste in Japanese society. These people  
generally handled such detestable tasks as handling dead   
people and running the prisons etc...  
  
go-en - en is relationship go is an honourific. This generally denotes  
the realtionship that is required to do business in Japan. One can  
only do business with a person you know, and so generally a go-  
between is used to introduce two prospective partners and form a   
en between them.   
  
Alright. Author's notes, finally.   
This took me awhile to write for several reasons. One it was originally pt 2 of ch 5. But as I started wriitng this, it became apparent that it would be easier and less confusing foor you the reader to place this as pt 1, also it would keep the time lne intact.The original pt 1 is now pt 3 and pt 2 has to be written, but I don't think it will be too hard.  
Okay, as I mentioned this was not sent to a prereader so there are mistakes in it and I'd appreciate anyone's help In pointing them out.   
As you can tell, MASN is breaking into several different plot lines. I could have devted a separate chapter to each, ie dealt with Ranma and Mousse as one chapter, Nabiki and her escapeades as another, but I decided to meld them together and try and see how it works. I hope it works oaky, but you can never be sure with these kind of things.  
Like before, My chapters always tend to start out slow. I don't know why, they just do. Maybe it will change later, but you never know. I hiope this part is as enjoyable and as interesting as the last parts. Thanks for reading and please comment.  
  
Until next time...  
Joseph Kohle  
  
----*----*----*----*----*----*----*----*----*----  
All rights and priveleges to Ranma Nibunnoichi   
belong to Takahashi Rumiko. The characters of   
her series are used without her permission for   
the purpose of entertainment only. This work of   
fiction is not meant for sale or profit.   
  
All original characters are the creation of the  
author. All copyright privileges to these chara-  
cters are reserved for the author.  
  
This story is a product of the author's hard work   
and imagination. Do not modify, add to, or make   
use of any part of this work without the author's   
knowledge and consent. Please feel free to archive   
this work.   
  
Comments and criticism are welcome.   
Written by Joseph A. Kohle, (c) 1997.   
Send all comments to ashira@worldnet.att.net   
Find my fanfics at   
http://www.geocities.com/Tokyo/Flats/6184/index.html 


	15. Vol 4 Chap 2

DISCLAIMER: Ranma Nibunnoichi is the property of Takahashi Rumiko, Shogakukan Inc, Shonen Sunday Comics, and Viz Video. It is used without their permission and is not intended for profit but only for the enjoyment of fans of the Ranma series. All characters within this fic that are not the property of the above mentioned are copyrighted to the author, Joseph Kohle, January 1997. This work of fiction is the result of the author's hard work and is for the enjoyment of others. Please do not change, modify, or use any segment of this story without the author's knowing and written consent. Feel free to archive this work.  
  
************************************************************************   
  
Meiyo Ai soshite Nikushimi  
  
A Ranma Nibunnoichi Fanfic  
by Joseph Kohle  
  
Part IV: Separate Paths  
Chapter II: Hara-no Sasyaki  
  
-- 1 --   
  
The sun was burning brightly in the sky, burning off the overcast sky that hung over Tokyo. A steady breeze that carried a brisk, brine- tasting sea air from the Pacific, seemed to caress every part of the body as it swirled clothes and hair alike. In the trees, the birds greeted the day with exuberant songs, trilling in competition with each other and filling the air with an impromptu concert. Though it was early, the day held all the promise of being a beautiful one.  
It was a day in which the office became a stuffy prison, the classroom an eternity in Hell as, just outside the window, clouds dallied in the sky while fragrant breezes, that spoke of relief and enjoyment, swirled mockingly among the leaves. It was days like these that made people wish they were retired or young children again, free of care to enjoy the spring warmth and escape for but a few moments.  
Akane cared little either way.   
School or freedom was a dubious comfort to her. Neither would change her predicament, and neither would help her solve it. As she walked to school alone, an experience she expected to become used to as one becomes used to solitary confinement, she tried to ignore the voice that told her she should tell someone or at least get some help. Ignor- ing it, however, was easier than dealing with the shame and fear that would come from telling anyone. In addition, she hadn't had a moment to decide on a course of action. The day before she had been in too much shock to dwell on her circumstances, much less think straight. Maybe she might have been able to deal with it if P-chan hadn't run away. She might have unburdened her predicament to someone if Nabiki hadn't left her alone by the dojo. Yet, those things had happened, and she now knew the awful truth. She was alone, and she had to deal with it alone.  
She glanced up at the approaching gate of Furinkan. There was no point dwelling on her problems at school. It was already known that she had gone home sick the day before and had been sick previous to that. There was no point in generating questions she was unable and unwilling to answer. Toufu-sensei wished to see her after school, and she would start worrying then. Until that time, it was better to put on a face, like she always did, and act as if nothing was out of the ordinary. Luckily, it was a Saturday, so she only had to deal with four hours of torture. More importantly, Mio, the one person Akane could always trust on to make her problems disappear, was waiting by the gate.   
Mio had a worried frown on her face as Akane walked up to her. Akane gave her friend a wan smile in return, but she knew that keeping secrets from Mio was an exercise in futility. They had know each other for a long time, and because of that, they had very few secrets from the other and an inkling of what the other was thinking. "Are you okay, Akane-chan?" Mio asked, falling in step with Akane as she passed.  
"Not the best," Akane answered, "but I'm sure I'll get better. It's just this thing with Ranma and everything around it."  
"He left?" There was soft concern in Mio's voice. For some reason it made Akane feel better to know someone was worried about her.  
Akane nodded, smiling as she fought back the rush of loneliness. "Yesterday morning. He stopped to say good-bye first." Akane couldn't keep the blush from her cheeks as she thought about what that farewell had involved.   
"It must have been interesting to make you blush like that," Mio commented with a giggle. Akane's blush deepened as she was forced to think about it even further. She really hadn't had much chance to think about what had happened. With Ranma leaving, her discovered pregnancy, and the events of the previous night, she hadn't been given the chance to, but at Mio's words, a rush of very pleasant images and feelings cascaded through her mind. Had she really been that forward?  
"I'll tell you about it later," Akane said, pointedly throwing glances at the students around them.   
Mio nodded her head in understanding before picking up the conversation again. "You shouldn't be sick so much," Mio admonished Akane. "You missed the funniest thing yesterday." Mio had an uncanny sense of when it was the best time to steer the conversation in another direction, and the fact that she was able to do it with very little awkwardness was useful at times like these.  
"I'll try," Akane said quietly, grateful for the change of subje- cts. She had been violently ill that morning and was seriously doubting that she would ever get used to it. "But at least you can tell me what happened."  
"Well, you see, it all began with Takezo and Diasuke. They thought it'd be..." Akane listened with feigned interest as she and her friend entered the school and made their way to class. From what she heard, the story sounded like an interesting one, but it was impossible to make herself become interested in it. Mio didn't seem to care, though, and chatted on as they walked the hallways of Furinkan. They parted ways at Akane's homeroom, and Akane slipped into the room as the bell rang.   
When the bell rang for the first class of the day, it was as if a prison door had been slammed and locked in Akane's face. Although she had hoped that school might take her mind off her problems, the droning voice of her teachers, discussing some unimportant aspect of history, math, or English grammar, couldn't hold her attention. So Akane, who had spent the last several days sleeping more than she had been awake, was unable to nod off like most of the class. Because of this, the morning passed slowly, like an eternity in Purgatory, for Akane.  
So, when the final bell for the day rang at noon, Akane almost bolted from her seat. Only Mio calling her name halted Akane from getting out of the door before everyone. Despite he impatience with being in school, and her need to go see Toufu-sensei, Akane was not about to ignore her best friend. She waited calmly for Mio to join them. Another one of Akane's friends, Sayuri, a slim girl with dark hair that hung down to her waist, joined them. Akane saw Yuka still standing at her desk, glancing between Akane and Raiko who was talking animatedly to Koiko, making it obvious she was ignoring Akane. Yuka took one last look at Raiko, shrugged er shoulders when Raiko didn't notice her, and went over to join Akane and her small group.  
"So are you gonna tell us what happened?" Sayuri asked in a hushed voice.   
"What do you mean by 'what happened'?" Akane demanded.  
"There are rumors all over the school, Akane," Sayuri explained in an exaggerated tone. "Everyone's got a different story, a few people have two or three. Some are saying Ranma ran off with the Chinese girl. What's her name?"  
"Shampoo," Mio supplied.  
"Yeah that's it. Some are saying you kicked him out. Raiko even went so far as to suggest that you put him in the hospital because he was sleeping with some other girl."  
"Nani?"   
"It's true," Yuka said. "Raiko's been spreading all kinds of nasty rumours. The problem is they are almost believable, and people are believing her."  
"I didn't do anything to Ranma. He had to go to China and that is all. He'll be back in a few months. Just wait. You'll see."  
"No need to get grouchy," Sayuri admonished. "We just wanted to know what was going on."  
"Gomen," Akane apologized, "I've just been out of sorts for the past few days."  
"What's wrong?" Yuka asked.  
"She's been sick," Mio explained.  
"Yeah, and I've gotta go see Toufu-sensei about it pretty soon," Akane said. "If you don't mind, I'll say good-bye now. I've really got to run."  
"That's okay, Akane. We'll just have to get together later. I'll call you," Yuka said. "I hope you feel better."  
"So do I," Akane said as she turned away and weaved her way past the students crowding the hall. It took her almost five minutes to get down to the front steps, but when she did, she set out across the yard, planning to take a quick short-cut to Toufu's clinic. It wasn't that she was in a hurry, she just didn't want to be bothered by people, and no one, except the teams, would be over by the sports fields for awhile. More importantly, she enjoyed walking the school grounds in the early spring. All the trees were just putting foliage on their branches, barren from the winter chill. She had always loved watching the trees bloom in the spring, it was one of the reasons she always ran in the park, but she had almost missed it this year, and she was content to slowly walk in the yard, alone with her thoughts.  
Because of this she was surprised and more than a little angry when Kunou fell in step beside her. "I have searched long and hard for thee, Tendou Akane," Kunou said. "There are things that I must needs to impart unto you unless, like frolicsome nymphs, I do waste my time with loquacious praise and dwell fulsomely on thy beauty and spirit."  
"Kunou-senpai!" Akane snapped, her eyes blazing in anger. Halting in mid-step and spinning to face the egotistical kendoist, she thrust her finger accusingly at him. "I'm in no mood to listen to your babbl- ing nonsense! If you wanna talk to me spit it out, or I'm knocking you senseless. And don't even think about giving me that flower." She directed her finger and smoldering gaze at the single rose Kunou held in his hand. "I already told you that I don't want anything to do with you, and there is nothing you can say or do that will make me change my mind!"  
Surprisingly, Kunou took a step back. "It was my intent to bring you a gift, just as Polonius gave Julius Caesar Pompey's head, to show my respect instead of bring about thy hot rage and vindictive words. It is always thus when I bring myself before thee. Thy beauty and grace are a siren's call to my heart, forcing me to put aside all reason, but now I tie myself to the mast and do what is right instead of leap into the waters to reach that impossible goal."  
"What are you getting at?" Akane asked impatiently.  
"I have come, with repentant and open heart, to ask thy forgive- ness." The words struck Akane dumb. Kunou Tatewaki was more incapable of apology than Ranma. To hear it freely given felt like the first time Ranma had whispered "I love you" to her. "I have wronged thee, Tendou Akane. It hath always been my intent, like a samurai bent on his goal, to win thee through strength and victory on the field of battle, yet my ways were an empty and hollow means through which my claim on thee wouldst be secured more tightly than a ship hawsered at dock. Thou, like my Osage-no-onna, art a tender blossom to be nurtured instead of rudely plucked from the ground like some base weed, as I hath treated thee, and for such treatment of thy person am I covered in most heinous shame that bringeth about my contrite words like the glacier doth give birth to the crystal clear stream whose waters will refresh and sustain instead of mar and sicken the landscape like those polluted by the leavings of unjust war."  
"Kunou," Akane said quietly, her mind vainly attempting to sort through the gibberish Kunou had just spouted at her,"I know you want to impress me, but I've got things to do. I accept your apology, but I need to get going."  
"Tarry for but a moment more, Tendou Akane, for my words shalt not linger much longer, though I would talk until the sun died to keep thy visage before me."  
"I'm sure you would," Akane muttered dryly, shuddering at the prospect, "but could you get to the point?"  
"Hai," Kunou said. "I hath sought thee out to debase mine self before thee and offer eloquent words of apology for the cretin conduct of mine, but also, I have brought myself, like a petitioner before the Emperor, to offer mine friendship to thee in thy times of need and dire straits. I have wronged thee with previous acts of aggression and ego- driven madness, and mine one and only desire, and shalt I die content if it be fulfilled, is to make those wrongs right by being as a rock for thee to stand upon. Mayhap, we can put aside our bickering of the past, and become companions, and, may it be so, more."  
"Kunou, I really appreciate this, at least I think I do, but right now, I can't take anything else in my life. I thank you for your hones- ty, but too much has happened to just let it be water under the bridge." Akane turned to leave.  
"Hold, please," Kunou said, his voice almost stricken. "Even if thou dost not wish mine company as a scarf that holds off the chill of winter frost, I doth insist on being a shadow that can watch over thee in thy troubles. It is all I ask."  
Akane sighed. "I'll think about it, Kunou-senpai, but right now I'm too busy. I'll see you." Akane quickly walked away before Kunou could say another word. She was baffled by the entire exchange, but it wasn't important. Weirdness and Kunou went hand in hand. She simply assumed it was another ploy of his to make her love him. She wondered what it would take to make him realize that she loved Ranma. Marriage was the only one she could think of, and even that might not work. After all, he had never caught on to Ranma's curse, despite being shown it several times. Sighing, Akane pushed the problem of Kunou to the back of her mind and walked reluctantly to her appointment with Toufu-sensei.  
  
-- 2 --   
  
"Boss?"  
"What can I do for you, Kumi?" Nabiki asked as her associate fell in step next to her. The final bell had just rung, and they were walking down the steps and out into the main yard where Nabiki generally conducted business.  
"I was just curious."  
"About what?" Nabiki asked, looking over at her partner. Kumi was in the grade beneath Nabiki, but she was a good worker, and had a knack for the business. She was a few centimeters shorter than Nabiki and wore her dark hair loose around her shoulders, so it swayed with each step. She didn't wear make-up, and wore thin-framed reading glasses over her dark, almond-shaped eyes.  
"Well, we haven't really done any business recently, and I was wondering what was going on? I mean you haven't asked me or Yoko to get you anything in the last week."  
"Speaking of Yoko, where is she?" Nabiki asked as she directed Kumi toward the athletic fields.  
"She had to go visit her grandmother. She's dying."   
"I'm sorry. I'll have to get her something," Nabiki mussed as she scanned the school ground for any sign of Yoshioka Takezo.  
"I'm sure she'll appreciate that, Boss, but it still doesn't help me. I kinda need some money, and if you don't give me assignments ..." Kumi left the phrase hanging. She knew Nabiki didn't like to be pushed for money, but she was desperate. To her surprise, Nabiki stopped and smiled at her.  
"I'm sorry, Kumi," Nabiki said, opening her bookbag. "I haven't meant to neglect you or Yoko, but I've been very busy. I should've called you, especially since I'm behind on my collections. Here, take this packet." Nabiki pulled a legal envelope from her bag and handed it to Kumi.  
"What's this?" Kumi asked as she opened it and glanced inside.  
"Those people owe me money. Most are due today, but a few are late. If they are a day late, charge them the usual fee. If they are more than that..." Nabiki paused for a moment, thinking. "If they are more than a day late just charge a percentage of the interest. Make it eight percent instead of sixteen."  
"You're giving them a discount?!?" Kumi nearly shouted in shock.  
"Well, that's one way to put it," Nabiki answered, zipping up her bag. "I'm still getting some money, but it is my fault for the delay. I know none of them want to pay me, but I've not been there to remind them, so I'll be nice today, but only if they are more than a day late ... and less than three. Okay?" Nabiki added after a slight pause.  
"I got it, Boss. But what if they don't have the money?"  
Nabiki smiled evilly. "Double the interest and apply it retroac- tively." Nabiki started to walk away, and then turned back. "Oh yeah. Also tell them it doubles each day they don't pay."  
"No prob, Boss, and thanks," Kumi gave Nabiki a quick, vicious smile and headed off toward the other end of the school, leaving Nabiki to her own devices. Nabiki wasn't worried about Kumi. She was a very accomplished girl with a good head on her shoulders. In the past, Nabiki had sometimes gained more money out of Kumi's exploits than her own. Yoko was the same way, and it was one of the reasons Nabiki did business with them, that and they were willing and nearly enthusiastic to work for her. Of course a little incentive never hurt, and that was why she gave Kumi and Yoko a percentage of whatever money they collected from her 'customers' and debtors. It wasn't much, but, over time, a twelve percent gain on each deal could rake in a good deal of freehand cash. There was also the added benefit of freeing up her own time for more delicate deals, like what she was doing now.  
Yoshioka Takezo's father was a real estate agent whose expertise would be useful in dealing with Cologne. She needed Takezo, though, to approach him. Usually Takezo could be found in the cafeteria at lunch, but this was Saturday, and he always hung out with the school rugby team before their game. When she arrived at the field, however, he was no- where to be found. Frustrated, Nabiki turned around to head over to the track, when she saw her sister talking with Kunou by the soccer field. They appeared to be arguing, well at least Akane was gesticulating in anger while Kunou calmly accepted it.  
For a moment Nabiki considered going over and helping her sister. She was still feeling guilty about leaving her sister alone last night, and she had not been able to talk to Akane before school or last night. Akane had been asleep when Nabiki had returned and she had risen early to get to school early. She took a step toward her sister, and then she noticed Takezo walking toward the rugby field. Caught in a moment of indecision, she was rooted in place. She had to talk to Takezo as soon as possible, and Akane could take care of herself with Kunou. Besides, she doubted Akane would want to discuss anything personal in front of Kunou, much less on the school ground. Glancing back over at Kunou and Akane, she saw her sister had calmed down somewhat, and Kunou, amaz- ingly, was still standing unscathed.   
It was obvious the trouble was past, but Nabiki was more than a little curious by the turn of events. She was not, however, curious enough to forgo her surprise meeting with Takezo. She promised herself to check on Akane later. With her conscience at rest, Nabiki turned and made her way toward the unsuspecting Takezo.  
"Hey, Takezo!" Nabiki called out cheerfully. Takezo visibly flinched at Nabiki's greeting. That was one of the main reasons Nabiki loved greeting people like that. It put them off balance from the start and gave her the edge she needed.  
"Listen, Nabiki," Takezo was saying as she walked up to him, "I don't have a lot of money on me now. I'll have some of it next week though. Really, I will. I swear!" Nabiki silently congratulated and berated herself at the same time. She had had no reason to be worried. Takezo owed her so much money that what she was going to ask of him would be a relief to him. He would fall over himself in his efforts to ingratiate himself to her.  
"That's good," Nabiki stated, eyeing him up and down like one does a side of beef before buying it. He was a tall, thin young man, with dark eyes, scraggly dark hair that never seemed to stay in place, and a thin face with pale skin that made him look older than he actually was. It was probably a result of the stress his family and she put on him, Nabiki decided. Nabiki, however, didn't feel the least bit of pity for the emaciated, young man in front of her. "It doesn't help to let the interest pile up like you've been letting it."   
"I'm sorry, my father is just not giving me as much money as he used to. I think he thinks I'm wasting it."  
"Aren't you though?" Nabiki asked. "You've been gambling with me for four years, and I've only got those first three months showing anything resembling a profit for you." Nabiki suddenly smiled and waved her hand dismissively. "But I didn't come here to talk about that."  
"Then what do you want?" Takezo asked in a relieved yet guarded voice.  
"I actually wanted to talk to you about your father."  
The fear was instantly back in Takezo's eyes and voice. "Y-you can't! If my father finds out how much I owe you, he'll kill me!"  
"Takezo, Takezo, Takezo," Nabiki admonished him, "you know I don't involve family unless it is a more delicate matter. You're just in debt, and I thought that you might want to do me a service that might reduce that debt. But...if you don't..." Nabiki left it hanging.  
Takezo was quiet for a moment, nervously rubbing his long, thin fingers together. "I'm listening," he finally said.  
"Wonderful. I knew we could work together. All I want from you is to introduce me to your father. I want to talk some business with him, and I can't approach him directly. You know how that goes, don't you?"  
Takezo nodded. "You want me to be your go-between."  
"Exactly, I knew you'd get it," Nabiki said. "I'll even take the interest off your debt for this month as your fee. Do you think we have a deal?"  
Takezo considered Nabiki's proposal for a moment. "And if I don't help you?"   
Nabiki just gave him a cold stare.  
"Okay, okay. I understand. I'll try and talk to my father. He'll probably meet with you. Is tomorrow night a good enough time?"  
"No, Sunday is a bad day for business. Monday is much better," Nabiki answered after a little thought. "A dinner would be best. My treat, at the Floating Plum?"  
"Hai. I'll broach the subject tonight."  
"Arigato, Takezo-san, I'm glad we could do business." Satisfied with her progress, Nabiki left Takezo alone in the field, flustered by what had just happened.  
  
-- 3 --   
  
Akane nervously tapped her foot on the carpeted floor of Toufu- sensei's waiting room. She didn't understand why she was nervous. Actu- ally she knew why she was nervous, it was confusing her more why it was making her nervous. She already knew she was pregnant. It wasn't like it could get much worse, could it? The problem lay in the fact that she had avoided or been unable to think about her delicate situation. She knew that when Toufu called her back she would have to make some decisions. She didn't want to. She just wanted to ignore it as long as she could, hoping it was a dream. What she really wanted was the last few weeks to just turn out to be dream, but neither was going to occur.  
"Akane, you can come back now," Toufu called from the hallway leading back to his examination room.  
"Hai," Akane answered sullenly, extracting herself from the chair and heading back toward the familiar room. Toufu was waiting for her, sitting in a chair. There was another one set up across from him. He motioned for her to sit down, and Akane complied.  
"How are you feeling?"  
"Fine, I guess. Is it always that bad in the morning?"  
"It depends," Toufu answered. "Some women adapt quicker and only feel out of sorts for a few weeks. Others are ill most of the pregnancy. Generally, it is a medium, with the worst being the middle of the first trimester."  
"Oh, I was just hoping...you know, if you could give me something that could stop it?" Akane asked hopefully, glancing up at Toufu.  
He smiled. "I have a few things that might help, and if you're talking about reducing the morning sickness, I guess you've decided to keep this baby."   
Akane's eyes widened. "What do you mean decided? I haven't decided anything! I just don't want to be sick. I do-don't want a baby..."   
"Are you sure?" Toufu asked, leaning forward to stare directly into Akane's eyes. Akane blushed and dropped her eyes under the intense scrutiny of Toufu's soft, brown eyes.   
"I-I don't know. I don't want to have a baby. I-I haven't thought about it... I mean, how can I deal with this? I don't have anyone. And what will Ranma want? I just don't know..." Akane's voice trailed off.  
"Do you want to know what I think?" Toufu asked, gently placing a hand on Akane's shoulder.  
Mutely, Akane nodded her head.  
"Raising a child is very hard work even for an adult, Akane," he stated evenly. "You're seventeen, Akane. You have one more year of school to go and several years of college. Your family does not have the money to support the extra cost of raising another child. On top of this, you are so emotionally unbalanced right now from the past few weeks and you probably will continue to be for a while, and that will make your pregnancy a tough one. For your own good, emotionally, finan- cially, and physically, I don't want you to have this baby."  
"You mean I should..." Akane's face blanched, "..should abort the baby?"  
"I'm not saying that, Akane. That is your choice," Toufu explained in s comforting voice. "I just don't think you should try to raise this baby. If that means adoption, so be it, but I think you'll save your family, Ranma, and yourself a lot of grief and shame if you just abort the fetus now. Do you understand what I'm getting at?"  
Akane stared at the floor as Toufu lectured her, trying to sort out her feelings. Finally, she looked up at the sincere and compassion- ate face of Toufu. This was the man who had helped her since her moth- er's death, the man who had tended her hurts before that. She knew he was right and she trusted him without question, but...  
"I-I don't know, Sensei," Akane murmured. "This is coming to fast. I need...I need some time to think, by myself. I haven't even gotten used to Ranma being gone yet...I'm sorry." Akane hastily wiped away the tears forming in her eyes.  
"I understand, Akane. These things are never easy. Let me get a few things." Toufu stood up and went to one of the cabinets. Opening a drawer, he extracted a bottle and came back. "This might help with the morning sickness. It doesn't always work perfectly, but it should lessen it."  
"Arigato," Akane said, taking the bottle from her doctor's hands.  
"One more thing, Akane. If you want to have the abortion, go to this man." Toufu handed her a business card. "I know this man and trust him. I can't do it myself. I'm sorry, but I don't have the skill or the tools. He'll-he can help you."  
Swallowing, Akane nodded her head and took the card. Standing up, she turned to leave, but at the last moment turned back. "You won't tell my father or anyone else, will you? I don't...I want to tell them only if I need to."  
"This is between us, Akane, but only if you keep me informed. I don't want you hurting yourself by doing something stupid or rash. I'll drop a packet at your house sometime tomorrow. It will have some infor- mation in it that might help you decide."  
"Arigato," Akane said as she left the exam room and made her way out of the clinic and towards home. She was reluctant to go straight home. It was not a reluctance born of any reason, just a feeling that she wanted to be alone for a while.   
Toufu had given her a lot to think about, and most of it she was woefully unprepared to deal with. His blunt assessment of her options had somehow made the fact that she was pregnant a reality instead of some dream she had mistaken for reality. The entire interview had left her with a green taste in her mouth, as if she had eaten an unripe banana, and an empty pit in her stomach.  
If the truth were to be known, she did not want to make a decision about anything. Like Paris awarding the golden apple, the best option was to never have become involved in the first place, but that was an impossibility. Neither one of them had even thought of it at the time. She very much doubted Ranma had been thinking clearly, and she, herself, had been confused and disoriented by her time unconscious and Ranma's loving attention. Of course she could blame the entire thing on Ranma. Hadn't he insisted over the past few weeks, at least when he had been able to talk, that it was all his fault?  
She felt an irrational surge of anger building up, and she forced herself to stop and lean against a telephone pole. She could blame Ranma and make his life Hell for this. She could scream and rave at him. She wanted to. She wanted to hit someone. But was that what she wanted?  
Although most people can go through drastic emotional swings with little trouble, there comes a point when the body simply has no more strength to deal with that and retreats from itself. Akane had undergone a form of it, two days of a deep melancholia, after she found Ouchi- sensei on Okinawa. In most cases this would have been enough of a break for her body to regain a portion of its balance, but after the episode, the stress had not been removed from her life. Instead it had increased exponentially with the new problems revolving around Ranma and what they both had to endure. Dealing with the grief, indecision, highs and lows, and depressions on a nearly constant basis had overwhelmed Akane. It became too much, and Akane's mind started to protect itself by locking away most of the emotions to leave her feeling a tired detachment from reality, almost as if she were looking in on her own body.  
This was one of those times. The anger slowly faded as the will to fight simply dissolved like a mouthful of cotton candy. It was useless and sheer hypocrisy to blame Ranma. Every time he had insisted that he had forced her, she had refuted that. She knew she could not go back on that stance now. Her anger was more centered on the fact that he had left, but even that was selfish of her. His leaving had been done for her, so they could be together, but she still wished he was here. The baby was his responsibility, and he did have a right, if not a duty, to make a choice in what happened.   
Akane sighed as she pushed herself away from the telephone pole. Would Ranma want her to have the baby? There was no question Ranma would support the child, his honour demanded that. But, if she kept the child, would his support be out of obligation or love? In their brief moments together in the past weeks, his love for her had shown through instead of his usual arrogant bravado, but...  
With a growl of frustration, Akane began to walk down the street. She didn't understand why she was concentrating on Ranma's thoughts. Pondering it was as helpful as staring at a foreign alphabet in a vain attempt to learn the language. Besides, in the end, it didn't matter at the moment. She was the important one. Whatever she wanted and feared would make her decision, but she couldn't shake the haunting feeling that what Ranma thought and felt was the more important reason to her.  
As she continued to walk, Toufu-sensei's words repeated in her mind as if they were the most popular song on the radio. Everything he had said was correct. She was, to put it simply, unable to care for a child at this point of her life. Only a small part of it had to do with her age. Although she was young, she doubted that her father would ever put her out of the house, especially since Ranma was the father. Quite on the contrary, he'd probably be planning the wedding after "I'm preganant" left her mouth. Having support and the love of her family to help her through this would make it easier, but there were other consi- derations as well; her future, her goals, and her dreams. They would all suffer and maybe crumble. If she had a child now, her schooling would falter at the least, and from there, the rest of her life would slowly disintegrate.  
There were hundreds if not thousands of reasons, and very good ones at that, to not have the baby, but there was one important consi- deration that almost outweighed her doubts. She was carrying her, and Ranma's, child. To go through with an abortion almost felt like killing a part of herself and Ranma. When Toufu had mentioned it, she had been repulsed by the idea, and now she didn't even want to think about it. But were the other options any better?  
Her steps carried her down the streets in a random maze of twists and turns. She was not paying any particular attention to where she was going. As long as her path eventually brought her home, she didn't have a preference for where she went. Lost in her own thoughts, she was sur- prised when she heard several shrieks of laughter off to her side. As she glanced up, the world seemed to stop for a moment as she was swept away by memories of the past.   
She was standing in front of a small playground. There was nothing particularly grand or interesting about it. A set of swings, well-worn from years of use, stood like skeletons of an age long past, at one end of the playground. At the other end, there were several slides and a fort-like structure made of wood. The shrieks of laughter came from there, and Akane could see three kids scrambling over the wood, looking more like squirrels and monkeys than children. Off to the side, a young mother in a blue kimono patterned with white clouds watched the children with an attentive half-eye as she read a book.  
It wasn't the playground or the scene of domesticity that stopped Akane. She remembered this playground from her youth. She was only a few blocks from her home, and this was the playground her own mother had taken her to since she had been able to walk. Some of her earliest memories were of chasing her older sisters around the playground in a rambunctious game of tag. They had all been very active and playful children in those days. Akane sighed regretfully. That had all changed when her mother died.  
Turning, she was about to leave when, on an inspiration born of loneliness and nostalgia, she walked into the playground, over to the swing set, and settled into one of the swings. The cloth seat conformed to her body as the chain creaked under her weight. Closing her eyes, she pushed herself backwards with her legs as another peal of laughter escaped from one of the children on the play structure.  
For a time, Akane reveled in the rhythmic motion of the swing as the wind rushed past her face on the upswing and her stomach dropped as she plummeted back toward the earth. She lost herself in the moment, pumping the swing higher and higher as the chain creaked out its metal- lic plea for oil. Although it was fun, there was a hollowness in being alone on a swing set. Akane felt it as she traveled back and forth. She had not been on one for years. The last time she had come she had been with her father, and that had been nearly nine years ago. Her father had always delighted in pushing his daughters on the swings. He had even made a game out of it. He would start them all, one by one, and then encourage each of them to go higher and higher, promising an ice cream cone to the one that got the highest. Of course he always declared it a tie, but that never mattered to Akane or her sisters. It had been the competition and enjoyment that they had craved, the fact that they knew they were loved. It was something Akane had been without for a long time. And now, when she had seemingly found it again, it was like she was walking a tight rope to keep it.  
As the memories turned sour, the swing slowed, and Akane finally came to rest, swaying slightly, in the cloth seat. She did not cry, though she felt like it. Instead, when she looked inside herself she saw a gaping emptiness staring silently and accusingly back at her. Taking a shuddering breath, she opened her eyes to watch the children play with confidence upon the wooden structure.  
Akane couldn't keep the soft smile from her face as she watched the three children, two boys and a girl, cavort on the other side of the playground. They were playing a game that seemed to involve a good deal of mock fighting and running around, screeching at the top of their lungs. It was hypnotizing and, like the swing, brought back memories, but these were happy ones. She started to enjoy herself as her problems fell from her shoulders like rain from a parka.  
It was not to last. A sudden wail of pain, snapped her back into reality. She saw that one of the boys had fallen. He was holding his knee, and Akane could see some blood on his fingers. The other two children had stopped the game and were watching their hurt playmate with wide eyes. Akane was about to go to the boy when the mother was there, pulling a small handkerchief from the sleeve pocket of her kimono. She gently pulled the boy's hands away as she kissed his forehead to comfort him. He quickly settled down, whimpering only occasionally as his mother wiped the dirt and gravel from his scraped knee.   
With this done, the mother tied the handkerchief around the knee and helped her son to his feet. She gave him a quick hug and ruffled his hair, a warm and caring expression on her face. The beaming love in the young boy's face caught at Akane's heart. Kasumi had sometimes been there to make her scrapes and bruises better, but it had not been the same. Kasumi rarely came to the dojo or the playground where Akane would hurt herself. She learned to just accept it and deal with it as a part of life. She had little experience with the loving care the mother of the hurt boy lavished on him.  
For the first time she wondered what kind of mother she would be. Was she going to be caring mother like the one who was tending her son? Or was her lot to fumble through life, trying to make the best of what happened? What kind of life could she offer a child? She couldn't cook, she had a nasty temper, and her patience was easily worn away. She believed most of Ranma's insults were on the mark, and that was why they hurt so much. She had never had a very high self-image, and she wondered if that would just be carried over on any child of hers. Maybe it was better to just not have the baby instead of gambling with what kind of life she could give him. More importantly, how could she and Ranma hope to be parents when they barely got along?  
Sure, they had spent the last few weeks closer than they had ever been, but how long would that last? Would a baby just pull them apart faster? This was just one more problem on top of a mountain. Sooner or later there would be a landslide. It was easier to just not have the problem in the first place.  
Yet, if they eventually made everything work between them, what would happen ten years from now when they wanted to have children? The memory of first child they aborted or gave up for adoption would haunt them. She knew it would. How could they decide to kill or give up one of their children? But was it better to raise a child when she and Ranma hated each other? She just didn't know.  
Across the playground, the mother, like a mother duck, had collec- ted her children around her, and was leading them home. The hurt boy was sporting his mother's handkerchief bandage with pride as he clung tight- ly to her hand. Akane tried to imagine how that woman would feel if that boy was no longer there and was just a possibility that had never come to pass because she was too uncertain of her future. It was impossible, she didn't know what that kind of love and devotion felt like.  
Akane remained on the swing as the woman left. She sat idly, push- ing back and forth with her legs. She went over every possible reason to have the child, and looked at the overwhelming evidence against it. She knew she should not have the baby. It wouldn't be fair to the kid, to her family, or to Ranma. The child would be a burden more than anything else, but if it was a burden, then why did she feel like getting rid of it was the wrong decision?  
As her shadow lengthened behind the swing, she made a shallow and unsatisfying bargain between her reason and emotion. To keep the child would be disastorous, but an abortion could destroy her hopes of a family with Ranma. If she had the abortion, she would never tell anyone. She would keep it from Ranma and her family. Then it would only be her who was made to suffer. Digging in her pocket, she retrieved the small business card and looked at the phone number and address. It wouldn't hurt to make an appointment. It wasn't forcing her into any action, but it made sure she had her options open.  
Pushing herself from the swing, she sighed as she slipped the card back into her pocket. She wished Ranma was here. She wanted someone to talk to who would hold her and tell her everything would be alright. She slowly wandered home. The swing set was left behind, but its ghosts rode heavily upon her shoulder.  
  
-- 4 --   
  
Lifting the top from the rice cooker, Kasumi stirred the rice for a moment. It was not quite done, but it was almost there. She lifted a small spice shaker and added just a hint of flavour to the rice. She would add more when she formed them into balls, but it fully permeated the food when she added it while it was cooking.   
Replacing the lid, she went back to her cutting board and began to chop the celery into small chunks. Her knife flashed quickly and evenly against the board from years of experience. She only paid the slightest attention to the knife so as not to accidentally nip one of her fingers. Instead she was mentally running over the menu she had planned for the night, making sure she had everything prepared. Everything seemed to be in order. She only had the soup to finish and the rice balls to form.  
Slicing the last stalk of celery, Kasumi used the knife to empty the cutting board into an open pot on the stove. Replacing knife and board, she began to stir the celery into the soup. Lifting the spoon out she tasted it. There was something missing from its delicate balance. Then it came to her. Reaching for the spices, she grabbed a shaker of cinnamon and another of ground black pepper. She added a dash of each and returned them while stirring with the other hand.   
As she put the cover back on the soup, the front bell rang a few times. "Otousan," Kasumi called out, "could you please get that." There was no answer. Curious, Kasumi stuck her head out of the kitchen as the bell rang again. "Otousan?" she called. It was obvious her father was not in the house.   
Wiping her hands on a towel, Kasumi left the kitchen and headed down the hall to the front entrance. She crossed the tatami mats as the bell rang again. As the last echo was fading she opened the door. "Oh, Toufu-sensei, what can I do for you?" Kasumi asked.  
"Ah-ah Ka-ka-kasumi, what a-a pleasant surprise," Toufu stammered. "Of all places to meet you, I run across you here." He smiled at her foolishly, his eyes blank and void of thought.  
"You can be so silly, Toufu-sensei," Kasumi giggled. It was nice to see him again. They had very little chance to meet, and when Ranma was hurt, he had been to busy to say more than "hello" to her. "Would you like to come in? I'm making dinner, and you're welcome to join us."  
"Ah-ah that would be nice, Kasumi-san, but-but I just came by to drop this off." Toufu's manner became a little more serious as he went about his job at hand, but once he handed Kasumi the legal envelope with Akane's name printed on it, he lost it again. "I-it was so nice to see you, Kasumi-san," he said to the bronze bell on the front door. "We'll have to do this again." He turned and walked off from the house, stop- ping to talk to the front gate post for a moment before he disappeared out into the street.  
Sighing, Kasumi shut the door and made her way back to the kit- chen. Although she enjoyed the silly way Toufu acted to please her, she thought he overdid it sometimes. Of course that didn't diminish her love for him, and it certainly was cute when he did it, but just once she wished he'd ask her out on a regular date. She knew she had told him that he had to wait, but that didn't mean they couldn't go out for a dinner, or a movie, or even just a walk in the park every so often. Ka- sumi could sympathize with Akane's situation. It was hard to build a relationship, when there was very little serious contact between the two. Kasumi, however, was not a woman to be daunted by that fact.  
"Who was that, Kasumi-chan?" Tendou Soun asked as Kasumi entered the dining area.  
"Oh, it was only Toufu-sensei, Otousan," Kasumi explained.  
"Where is he? Didn't you invite him in for dinner?" Soun asked, looking around for the good doctor. "We owe him that much for what he did for Ranma."  
"I invited him in, Otousan, but he had other things to take care of," Kasumi explained. "He only brought this over for Akane." Kasumi showed her father the envelope.  
"I wonder what it is. I hope my baby girl isn't sick," Soun said, a few tears dampening his cheeks.  
"I'm sure it's just something for school, Otousan," Kasumi assured her father.  
"Soo-de su," Soun exclaimed. "That must be it." He turned around and went back outside where Saotome-ojisan was sitting in front of the shogi board, his face long and melancholy. Kasumi was tempted to tell her father's friend that Ranma was okay, but Ranma had asked her not to tell anyone, and she always kept her promises. Sighing, she returned to the kitchen and almost screeched as she saw the rice cooker starting to boiling over. Throwing the envelope for Akane on the back counter, she rushed forward to save dinner.  
  
-- 5 --   
  
Nabiki was sitting at her desk, a folder open in front of her and several books on real estate beside her. Glancing over a few formulas in one of the books she turned back to the folder and wrote a few numbers down. Pulling a chart out of the folder she checked it and frowned. Rolling her chair over to her computer, she typed in an address for the city database before turning back to the charts.   
She was not listening to her walkman, as was her wont when she was studying. There was no need for it with Ranma gone. The possibility of a fight or shouted argument between him and Akane were rather slim at this point. Because of this she heard her younger sister's door open and close. She glanced at her watch, it was after eight, Akane was almost never home that late, and she had missed dinner. Something was not right, and Nabiki didn't like having secrets kept from her. Besides, she had promised herself to talk to Akane several times, and she was sick of trying to figure out ll of the real estate figures. It wouldn't take that long, she decided and closed the folder on her desk.  
Flicking the monitor of her computer off, she left the room and stepped down the hall to Akane's door, which she lightly tapped before opening it and entering. Akane didn't look up as Nabiki walked in. She seemed to be deep in study, a book open beside her as she scribbled in a notebook. On closer inspection, though, Nabiki saw that Akane was simply doodling, her pen moving in random arcs and circles instead of the semi- straight lines of kanji, hiragana, and katakana, or even the English alphabet.  
"Hey, sis," Nabiki said as she grabbed a chair and spun it around so she could sit facing her sister.   
Akane's head snapped up at Nabiki's greeting an almost guilty expression on her face. "Oh, hello oneechan," Akane greeted her sister. "I didn't hear you enter."  
"You looked pretty busy doodling. I'm sorry I interrupted you."  
Akane smiled sheepishly. "I just couldn't concentrate. You know how calc is."  
Nabiki eyed her sister for a moment. She looked a little pale like someone who had just received some bad news. "So," Nabiki said, leaning back in the chair, and putting her feet up on Akane's bed, "What were you doing with Kunou today? Checking out the waters now that Ranma is gone?" Nabiki winked slyly at her sister who was furiously shaking her head.  
"No way! I'd never go out with that baka!" Akane denied vehement- ly. "He just wanted to apologize for chasing after me for the past two years."  
"You're kidding. Kunou? Apologize?"  
"Yeah, I was kind of shocked too," Akane agreed. "I don't trust him though. He kept muttering about a fragile heart needing to be nurtured instead of plucked."  
"Typical Kunou gibberish," Nabiki allowed. "He's never been able to utter a sentence without poetry since middle school. I should know. He kept trying his lines out on me because I sat next to him." Nabiki shuddered.   
Akane laughed, her voice sounding like a pealing bell.  
"You know," Nabiki stated, smiling a little at her sister, "that's the first time, I've heard you laugh in a long time, sis."   
At her words, Akane's laughter died, leaving the room silent and empty once again. "I guess I haven't had much to laugh about," Akane explained.   
"C'mon, sis. It's not that bad. Ranma will be back soon, I promise you that he will."  
"How do you know?" Akane asked, pushing aside her notebook. "Any- thing can happen in two months. What if he gets trapped Cologne and Shampoo? What if he can't get out of this?"  
"This is Ranma were talking about, Akane-chan. Besides," she added in an offhand manner, "I made a deal with him. I won't let your iinazuke run off."  
"You made a deal? What kind? What's going on here?" Akane asked in a dangerous voice. "Ranma only told me he had to train Mousse so he could beat Shampoo."  
"That's basically it. Amazingly, Ranma came up with the idea on his own. Of course he left a lot out, but that's where I come in."  
"Stop that! He's not that bad. A little dense, but he means well."  
"You know," Nabiki commented, "you must actually like him. That's the first time you've ever complimented him and not taken it back the next moment." Nabiki flashed her sister a smile.  
"It took you this long to figure it out? You must be slipping, oneechan," Akane shot back, unwilling to give her sister any real satisfaction from a comment that would have had her spluttering denials a month ago.  
"I'm glad you're getting back to your old self. It's no fun without all those bizarre happenings going on around here. Besides, how am I supposed to get money out of you if there's nothing to bet on?"  
"Is that all you think about?" Akane asked quietly.  
"Not much else is worth the effort," Nabiki shrugged, the smile dropping from her face. "Money can give me everything I want."  
"What about love?" Akane asked. "I doubt money would ever buy you Ranma."  
"So, I can do without. I've always got my family." Nabiki stopped, and turned her face away from Akane. "If I can make you happy with money, I'm happy. It's one of the reasons I'm helping Ranma. One of us deserves happiness, sis."  
"Arigato," Akane said, her eyes misting a bit.  
"Don't mention it," Nabiki said, trying to brush off her comments. It didn't work, Akane leaned forward and caught Nabiki in a hug. For a moment Nabiki stiffened, but then she returned Akane's affection with an equal zeal.  
"How can you stand being alone?" Akane asked. "I already miss him, and he's only been gone a few days." For a time they were silent, enjoy- ing the moment, and then Nabiki gently pushed Akane away. Akane sighed. "Is there anyway to make this go faster?"  
Nabiki shook her head. "Sorry, sis. Ranma's not going to be in Hong Kong for a month. The earliest he could possibly get back is maybe two weeks after that. Don't worry, a few months isn't gonna hurt anything."  
To Nabiki's surprise, Akane sank back against the wall. "Yeah, what does a few months matter," she said in a quiet voice. "Each week makes it harder. I don't even want to think about months."  
Nabiki stood up and went to the bed, concern in heart. "What's wrong?" she asked. "You know there is nothing to be depressed about."  
"Yeah nothing," Akane agreed. Akane turned her face away from Nabiki and stared silently out of the window for a time before seapking again. "Nabiki, thanks for the concern, but...but I'd like to be alone, if you don't mind."  
"Sure. If you need me..." Nabiki left it hanging and tried to give Akane a quick hug. Akane had other ideas. She pulled her sister tightly against her.  
"Promise me, you'll make sure he comes back."  
"I promise, sis."  
"Thanks, Nabiki. For everything." Akane gave her sister another hug before releasing her. Nabiki gave her younger sister a soft smile and leaft the room a little more concerned than when she had entered in the first place.  
  
-- 6 --   
  
Ukyou glanced at the equipment spread out on the bed. It was not much, but she had left home with even less. Her backpack was leaning against the bed, already packed with a few changes of clothes and most of her camping equipment and food. Her sleeping roll and canvas tent with collapsible poles were rolled tightly together and laying on the end of her bed. Next to the sleeping roll was a small knapsack with the rest of her food and a canteen. Her battle spatula was leaning next to the backpack, her bandolier of throwing spatulas hanging from the small handle. She had no illusions that this was going to be an easy trip.  
Grabbing the bandolier, she slung it over her shoulder and began packing the rest of her things. She was getting frustrated with all of the small delays that had cropped up, and she desired to be away. After Nabiki had told her Ranma had left, Ukyou had spent the next day and Sunday getting her affairs in order. It had taken her nearly a day to convince Konatsu to stay and mind the restaurant. Once he had learned of her intentions, he had demanded to go with her.  
It had taken all of her persuasion and finally a few threats to convince him to stay at the restaurant. But now all the interruptions were over and she could get going. Tying the bedroll to her backpack frame, she slung the pack over her shoulders and tightened the belt so most of the weight rested on her hips. Quickly glancing over the room, she made sure she hadn't forgotten anything. Satisfied that she hadn't, Ukyou walked out of her room and closed the door behind her.   
Turning around she found Konatsu standing before her, an unspoken plea in his soft, brown eyes. "Please, Ukyou-san. Don't do this."  
Sadly, Ukyou laid her hand on the kunnoichi's shoulder. "I have to, Konatsu. I'm not going to lose Ranchan like this. He's all I got. You understand, don't you?"  
Mutely Konatsu nodded his head. "At least let me come with you, Ukyou-san."  
"I need someone to care for the restaurant."  
"But what if you get into trouble, or get hurt?" Konatsu objected.  
"I'll find, Ranchan quickly. He'll help me. Besides, I've been on the road since I was fourteen. I think I know what I'm doing, Konatsu."  
"I still don't like this."  
"It's not for you to like. I'm sorry, I need to get going before I get stuck here." Ukyou turned away and began to walk down the stairs to the lower floor.   
"Ukyou-san!" Ukyou turned at Konatsu's voice, expecting another objection. Instead she saw her friend almost in tears. "Please take care of yourself. You're all I have."  
"I will, Konatsu. I'll be back before you even know it." Ukyou smiled and then descended the stairs. IN the dining room, she glanced around for a few moments, taking in the orderly chairs and tables, the well-kept grill behind the counter. This place held memories, but with- out Ranma, they were unimportant. Settling the pack on her shoulders, Ukyou left the Ucchan. As the door closed behind her, and the tinkle of the bell died, Ukyou had a sudden feeling that she would not be back for a long time. Dismissing the disturbing thought, Ukyou began to walk down the street toward the rising sun, the horizon burning red as the heavy clouds gathered.  
  
-- 7 --   
  
The lunch hour was nearly over when Akane excused herself from her friends. Mio was the only one to give her a good-bye wave. Yuka and Sayuri were too involved in their debate on who had the cutest boyfriend to notice Akane's withdrawal. Akane walked across the lawn and up the steps and into the school where she directed her steps toward the gymna- sium and the bank of phones that were there. They were the most private phones in the school, and Akane didn't want anyone to overhear her call.  
She walked the halls with a steady tread, trying to gather the courage to make the phone call. She had spent most of the previous day and the night before that, after Nabiki had left her room, trying to convince herself that she was making the right decision, but there was still a small seed of doubt that, like a weed, grew back faster than it could be plucked.  
Turning a corner, she saw the entrance to the gym and the bank of phones next to it. Walking up to the nearest one, she dug out some change from her purse and pulled out the business card Toufu-sensei had given her two days ago. She looked at the number with sightless eyes, instead taking in the blue border of the card and the lettering on the off-white card. She knew she didn't have much time left, so she picked up the phone and deposited the coins. There was a click as the charge was accepted and she quickly dialed the number before her resolve faded.  
It rang once, twice, a third time. She was about to hang up when the other line picked up.  
"This is the office of Tsujimura-sensei. We specialize in gyne- cology and family medicine," a female receptionist stated on the line. "How may I help you?"  
"Hello," Akane said in a small voice. "Toufu-sensei, my doctor, told me to call you about setting up an evaluation with Tsujimura- sensei."  
"What is this concerning?"  
"Ah, um...it's about. Well..."  
"Are you looking for consultation for family planning or is it for an abortion?" the voice prompted.  
"Hai, the latter," Akane answered relieved. "I'd like to speak with Tsujimura-sensei about that. When can I come in?"   
"The doctor has a full schedule for the next two days. But on Thursday we can work you in with no problem. What time would you like?"  
"Is four in the afternoon too late?" Akane asked.  
"We have a time at four-thirty. Is that fine?"  
"Hai."  
"Okay, what is your name?" Akane answered the questions the recep- tionist asked quickly and then said good-bye once her appointment was made. Sighing, she put away the card and left the phone. From the door to the gym, Nagai Raiko watched Akane walk away from the phones. She wondered what was going on. It had to be something juicy if Akane was going to all this trouble to keep it secret. Raiko decided that she would have to find out. No one mocked her and got away with it.   
  
Translator's Notes:  
  
Hara- hara literally means the lower abdomen. In Japanese culture, the lower abdomen is supposed to be the equivalent of what the english consider the heart and mind, center of emotion and intellect, or the Chinese call shin (heart-mind). Hara can be translated as mind, but it takes on a deeper conotation in Japanese. It is the center of thought and emotion, so it is very important. It is one of the reasons suicide is refered to as harakiri, and is also the reason a seppuku is comitted by mutilating the lower abdomen with a tanto.   
Some commone phrases with hara are.  
Hara o kimeru - to make up one's hara - to make up one's mind  
Hara o watte hanasu - to open the hara and talk - a heart-to-heart talk.  
Hito no hara o yomu - to read another's hara - to read another's mind.  
  
Sasayaki- whisper or whispers So the title means the hara's whisper, a close approximation of the English phrase, whispers of the heart, or listening to your heart. Hey, it's not the best translation, but it was the best I could come up with.  
  
Author's Notes:  
  
Ah, another part that has been completed. I wasn't expecting to ever finish this part, I kept getting sidetracked by other things. Well I finished it and I guess that's the important part. I hope you all enjoyed it.  
Well on to some more important points. In case any of you are really wondering, I believe this part starts in early April. (What do you mean believe? Well, I'm not entirely sure whether I wanted the story to start in March or April, hence why I haven't mentioned months and only days.) Anyways, that is a rather unimportant part. Onto some more, ah shall we say delicate, situations.  
One thing I would like to ask is that any debate or disatisfaction with my inclusion of abortion in this fic be directed at me. I've planned on putting this in the story for a long time, and it won't change. Remember, this is a realistic drama, and as such, it deserves to be dealt with in real life situations. If you have a problem with my characterization about this, don't complain to the ML, complain to me. I refuse to be an instigator of a flame war.  
Sorry, I had to put that in there, mostly because of that little thread that almost flared up when I put out 5_1 of MASN.  
Let's see onto the lighter side of my story. As you can see, I love to make things as complicated as possible. It's not really intentional, well it is. I'm trying to create a very realistic world, because of that I have to put in outside characters who don't belong in the Ranmaverse. I'm trying to integrate them as easily as possible. You'll find out, later on, that some of these characters will move into more prominent positions within the story. Some, however, are just static characters.   
Oh yes, while I'm on the subject of new characters, I'm fast running out of Japanese surnames and given names that I actually know to be real. I can probably keep up with the male names for a long time, but it's kind of difficult to find female names, mostly because Japanese literature generally focuses on the male. Anyway, if anyone could send me lists of surnames and then given names, I'd be most appreciative. Even if you only know one, send it. If a hundred people know one, then I have a hundred names. I'll even compile them and post them to the list as a reference for other authors..  
Okay back to the plot. This is turning out to be very novelesque in nature. This chapter is splitm over several different plots and time lines. I'm going to be spreading them out. For instance, the next part is about Ranma and Mousse, a sort of break before I pull you back to Nerima and he problems.  
The surprising thing is the role Nabiki has assumed. I never intended her to grab such a large portion of the story. After Ranma and Akane, I believe she is the next most important character, and maybe even more important than those two at times.   
If you're wondering when certain chacrters will show up, don't. They all, or almost all of them, will show up at some point, but what is the point of putting them in if they have no reason to be in the story. It would only creat problems in an already complicated story.  
Anyway, I hope you have enjoyed this installment. My writing might be slowing for the next few weeks because I'm trying to put together my homepage. Luckily, I have the next part of MASN written and I'll hurry up and finish the next part of the Legacy sometime this weeken.  
Please comment, and until next time, have a good time.  
  
Coming next week:  
MASN Ch 5 Separate Paths Part 3 Teacher and Student.  
  
Until next time  
Joseph A. Kohle  
  
----*----*----*----*----*----*----*----*----*----  
All rights and priveleges to Ranma Nibunnoichi   
belong to Takahashi Rumiko. The characters of   
her series are used without her permission for   
the purpose of entertainment only. This work of   
fiction is not meant for sale or profit.   
  
All original characters are the creation of the  
author. All copyright privileges to these chara-  
cters are reserved for the author.  
  
This story is a product of the author's hard work   
and imagination. Do not modify, add to, or make   
use of any part of this work without the author's   
knowledge and consent. Please feel free to archive   
this work.   
  
Comments and criticism are welcome.   
Written by Joseph A. Kohle, (c) 1997.   
Send all comments to Ashira@worldnet.att.net   
Find some of my fanfics at  
http://www.geocoties.com/Tokyo/Flats/6184/index.html 


	16. Vol 4 Chap 3

DISCLAIMER: Ranma Nibunnoichi is the property of Takahashi Rumiko, Shogakukan Inc, Shonen Sunday Comics, and Viz Video. It is used without their permission and is not intended for profit but only for the enjoyment of fans of the Ranma series. All characters within this fic that are not the property of the above mentioned are copyrighted to the author, Joseph Kohle, January 1997. This work of fiction is the result of the author's hard work and is for the enjoyment of others. Please do not change, modify, or use any segment of this story without the author's knowing and written consent. Feel free to archive this work.  
  
************************************************************************   
  
Meiyo Ai soshite Nikushimi  
  
A Ranma Nibunnoichi Fanfic  
by Joseph Kohle  
  
Part IV: Separate Paths  
Chapter III Teacher and Student  
  
-- 1 --   
  
Like a suffocating blanket, inky darkness engulfed him. It stalked him like a hyena waiting for the chance to pounce on its hapless prey. Blindly he spun trying to defend himself as one did against the bogey- man. "Help!" The blackness swallowed his voice, sucking the breath from his chest, driving the fear deeper into his heart. Then the hyena pounced.  
A heavy weight crashed into his mind, dragging him down, heavy jaws ripping at his mind and body. He screamed and tried to push it away, but his fear only drove it into a wilder frenzy. Inch by inch it pressed its advantage, the invisible teeth and claws brushing and than breaking his skin, leaving hot trails of pain and fear.  
It was too much, the thing was too strong. It pushed at his defen- ses, dove beneath his crumbling sanity. Closing his eyes, blanking his thoughts he waited for the inevitable, but it never came. Even though he could feel the hot breath, the ravenous desire, the jaws never closed.  
"Go," The voice was soft and reassuring. "I'll stay. This is my task."  
He didn't argue. Scrambling backwards he fled like a child from the basement, terror strangling his chest. Behind him he heard the voice chant, "Like old times, ne? You never get to dance with my partners. Come, let's dance, demon." A light, ghostly laugh followed as the world filled with light.  
He ran and ran, the light surrounding him and forming a tunnel to light his way, behind him he heard a dark voice. "It's not a dance anymore, Mortal. No more." Then the girl screamed as the world went dark around him. Like a sailor litening to the Siren's call, he was entraped by the agonizing shriek that filled the air.   
"Nooo! Its not the same. Ranma, help! Please," The last was cut short in a gurgling sob as his eyes snapped open. Bolting from his sleeping mat, sweat-damp hair plastered against his forehead, he clamped his mouth shut on the scream that was trying to burrow its way out of his throat.  
His heart was racing in his chest. Fear filled him, not fear for himself but for the voice, the girl. He had to help her, but he did not know how. But it was only a dream, he told himself. A dream that he had had three nights running, although it had never been a girl saving him before, just a presence, a feeling of protection. Why was it suddenly a person? It had to mean something. But the only girl he knew who could be in trouble was...  
"Xian Lin!" he whispered hoarsely, his voice trembling with fear. He was a blur of motion as he clawed through the clothes next to his mat, pushing aside his shirt and grabbing at the pouch as a dread cer- tainty filled him. Ripping the pouch open, he dropped the idol into his hand, his eyes tracing over every inch of it.  
He breathed a sigh of relief.  
It was unchanged, the white aura of Xian Lin glowing lightly about it, a dark smudge the only blemish on its surface. Frowning, Ranma glanced at the smudge. He could have sworn it had been smaller before, but he was unsure. Even in his fear, he could feel Xian Lin's comforting aura, that sense of fulfillment and warmth he only felt in Akane's arms. Sighing, he sank back on his sleeping mat and hugged the idol tightly against his chest.  
"Three nights," he whispered. He didn't understand it. Although he sometimes had nightmares, they were never intense, they never woke him, and they never repeated, until now. He didn't know what it meant. The first three nights of his training trip, he had been woken by nightmares like the one he had been trapped in before waking from the datura induc- ed sleep, but now they were similar. They were terrifying, reminding him of the darkness that had been his first contact with Boukyaku, and that was what scared him.  
In the back of his mind, he knew Xian Lin was trying to tell him something. It wasn't guilt on his part for leaving her. The dreams were too real, too similar to be that. So what did she want? Did she need him to free her now? But how?  
He shook his head and rolled out of his sleeping mat. Padding over to the fire, he stirred it gently with a stick until the orange and red tongues of flame were licking the twigs and branches as if it were a ravenous beast. Settling beside the warmth, he turned his eyes skyward. Stars filled the heavens, the quarter moon casting its eerie glow across the slopes of Mount Fuji. In the distant valley, the competing light of the Tokyo megalopolis shone in all its garish glory. Ranma returned to the stars, he liked them better.  
Even the stars, though, could only keep him entranced for a time, and the longer he looked the more thoughts of Akane and eventually Xian Lin would intrude on his mind. He knew the oblivion of sleep would elude him for the rest of the night, and he was unwilling to face the oblivion that was waiting for him, so he decided to make the best of it. Standing up, he grabbed a canteen of water and walked over to the sleeping form of Mousse.   
Ranma knew he would have to deal with his problems sooner or later, but sooner he was not in the mood for. Upturning the canteen, he acti- vated Mousse's curse and then went for the hot water as an angry duck quacked at him. Training Mousse would clear his mind.  
  
-- 2 --   
  
As he panted on his hands and knees, a flicker in the corner of his eye was the only warning Mousse was given. With a supreme effort of will he forced himself to roll to the side, but the stone still nicked his bruised shoulder, drawing blood. With a grunt he landed on the hard earth and continued the roll until he was on his feet, facing his adversary.   
Ranma was crouched on his rump, leaning casually against a tree, a pile of small stones next to him. Dressed in only his pants and twirling a pair of chopsticks in one hand, he looked like someone enjoying the day's cool breeze and warm sun. Mousse knew different. He could see the calculating look in Ranma's eyes, the subtle play of muscles and tendons in his body that told him Ranma was preparing something. He was not disappointed as the chopsticks suddenly flashed.  
Dropping into a crouch, Mousse rolled to the side, dodging the hard projectile. He didn't finish the dodge. Instead he planted his feet, and pushed himself back the way he had come, using his hands to spring into the air where his feet grabbed a low-hanging branch. Swinging into the tree, he quickly did a backflip that took him toward the ground. Above him he heard several dozen thuds as stones slammed into the branch he had just left.  
Hitting the ground, he rolled and started to come to his feet, when a rock slammed into the dirt in front of him. The dry earth sprayed across his face, sticking to the sheen of sweat that covered his body. He was frozen for a moment, his body still adjusting to the ground. He knew the next rock was coming, but it Ranma's voice that came instead. "That's enough for now, Mousse. Get something to drink and cool down. We'll get lunch and then continue."  
Climbing to his feet, Mousse nodded at Ranma who had only a few stones left beside him. Ranma nodded in return, his crystal eyes never leaving Mousse's own. It was almost unnerving, until Ranma smiled at him. "You're getting better. If you keep this up, we might not even need the full month." Mousse grunted at the compliment before heading off to the nearby camp.  
He had to admit Ranma was right. He was improving, but not at a rate that he found comfortable, and the fact that Ranma refused to spar with him or let him fight with his weapons irked him even more. It had been that way since the first day. That was the only day Ranma had sparred against him, if their fight could've been called sparring. That was also the day all the laws had been set down.  
They had stopped in a small clearing outside of Nerima, the sun already past its zenith and slowly descending toward the western hori- zon. Ranma unshouldered his pack and motioned for Mousse to do the same. He complied, dropping the small pack into the dirt beside him. Expecting an attack from Ranma, he settled into his ready stance, his hands tucked into each sleeve, his tense muscles hidden by his voluminous robes.   
Ranma was kneeling at his own pack, rummaging through it. Casting a glance over his shoulder, he shook his head and went back to his pack. "Relax, Mousse," he said. "We're not sparring yet."  
"We're not..."  
"Sparring. I want to talk first. So relax your guard and sit down," Ranma said.  
"How did? You barley looked at me." Mousse was flabbergasted. Sao- tome had glanced at him for no more than a second, and he had seen he was ready? How?  
"It's pretty obvious," Ranma commented, answering Mousse's unspoken thoughts. "I know your style. Your hands are probably touching a blade or chain. By crossing them like that I can tell how you're going to throw. The robes hide your body, so I can't see your form, but you're standing straight which means your legs are close together. You fight in a closed stance, using your robes to conceal the initial movement of the attack. But even then, the face always gives it away. You cleared your face and went calm and serious in a moment. Why? Because you're expec- ting an attack or are preparing for one."  
Mousse listened as Ranma rattled off his martial style's set up as if he had been practicing it for years. He detailed tenets and positions that could be obtained from the closed stance, how easy it was to slip into The Form of the Swan or launch into any other avian form. Although the recitation impressed Mousse, the flippant tone Ranma used infuriated him. It was as if he was mocking his years of training it took to develop his style.  
"There are draw backs to every form, but most especially to forms like yours. They are effective, once, on a person who hasn't seen them. Sure your weapons are useful, but what good do they do you when I'm expecting you to throw everything short of a bus at me? Not much, ne?"  
"You've fallen under my weapons before, Saotome," Mousse answered coldly.  
"Oh yes, I remember that," Ranma shrugged, withdrawing a length of rope from his pack. "I seem to remember Kunou and Ryouga pummeling me while you threw maces at me. Is that your form beating me, or just sheer power and numbers? If your form is so good, why can't you beat me one on one?"  
Mousse couldn't answer, he was seeing red. Although he knew Ranma was rude and obnoxious, he had never even thought he could be so callous of another's Art. This went beyond taunting to insults. Ranma, however, seemed to be unaware of his words as he continued to talk.  
"Well, I'm going to show you how to beat me. First, I want you to unlearn everything. Weapons are useless against an unarmed opponent who is better than you or even equal to you. You need a variety of stances that move from one to the other. You have to learn to hide your move- ments and, in the best case, trick your opponent into reading you wrong. You can't do that, but I'll make you able to do it. Now take of your robe and we'll start."  
"I'll show you how good my form is!" Mousse growled, his patience worn thin but Ranma's last words, and launched himself at Ranma. The fight was short and sweet. Mousse found himself on the ground a few moments later, gasping in short breaths as Ranma stood over him, a humourous glint in his clear eyes.   
"Do you understand now?"  
Nodding numbly, Mousse tried to push himself to his knees, wincing at the pain in his chest and neck. He had no clue what had happened. One moment he was descending on an unprepared Ranma, ready to cleave his body in half, the next Ranma was gone. Then there was pain in his back as he was thrown forward to the ground. He could recall climbing to his feet to see a white flash as more pain explode in his chest and his breath was knocked from his lungs. Then his neck was encircled, and he found himself in the air, until he hit the tree, light and pain explo- ding in his head.   
"H-h-how did y-you ge-get...so good?" Mousse gasped as he finally gained his knees.  
Ranma glanced down at him, the smug superiority in his face and voice gone as he spoke, "I've been this good for a while. Do you remem- ber our first fight?" Mousse nodded. How could he forget it? "I was fighting you in my cursed form. I wasn't used to it and so was not reacting very well. If I'd been a guy, I'm sorry Mousse, but you proba- bly would've only gotten the first blow in."   
"But they always seem like fair fights?" Mousse protested.  
"That's because I make them fair. I've been fighting and training since I could walk, Mousse. My dad took me on my first training trip when I was two. I left my mom when I was five. I've been training since then. Only Ryouga, Cologne, and Happousai can challenge me on a regular basis. Even my pop is not as good as me."  
"I thought he trained you."   
Ranma sat down in front of Mousse. Mousse could see the strength and confidence in Ranma's face. It was something he had never seen. Ranma generally seemed like a good-natured although somewhat distant friend to people. He was arrogant and cocky about his abilities, but he always fought with the other person, almost as if he was training them unconsciously. "I beat Oyaji when I was ten. I'd let him win the past few days, giving him the fights so I could watch how he reacted, what he went for. He has patterns like everyone else. Once I thought I knew his pattern, I began fighting back. After a week I knew I was ready. I went all out against him. It was a dead heat for almost an hour, but he fell into a pattern when I started to let up. I had him then, and I've been able to take him ever since. I don't do it very often, since it isn't any fun."  
"You don't fight to your potential?" Mousse asked incredulous.  
"No, not that. It's just that I don't fight with what I know well. I'm training so much that I pick up techniques better than Nabiki makes money. The problem is, you've gotta work on each technique to make it perfect and then integrate it into your form. So I generally switch to one of those techniques I haven't mastered, or just came up with, and fight with them till I become too good at it to continue, then I just go to the next."  
Contemplating Ranma's words, Mousse kept his mouth shut for a few minutes. Ranma seemed to understand and stood up and returned to his backpack. Mousse didn't pay too much attention. He kept thinking of Ranma's words. It seemed like Ranma was going to teach him the Anything Goes Style, but he didn't want to learn it. He had trained himself in the Arts of Misdirection, and as such did not want to change to an open- hand and power based style like Anything Goes. "So you're gonna train me in your school and send me against Shampoo."  
"Roughly," Ranma answered.  
"I'd rather keep my own style," Mousse muttered.  
"Do you know what my school is about?" Ranma asked as he returned and sat in front of Mousse, a length of rope in his hand.   
"You just seem to accumulate everything about other schools and use them. So why should I learn it? My school is very versatile."  
"Do you know why it is called Anything-Goes?" Ranma didn't wait for Mousse to formulate his answer. "'Cause anything goes. It is not a style so much as a philosophy of fighting. Look at any member of my school and compare my fighting to theirs. The closest you'll find is my father, and he prefers a combination of jujitsu, akido, and judo. Akane prefers kenpo and techniques relying on strength and power mixed with endurance. I've never fought her father, but I'd assume he uses a similar style as Akane but emphasizes quick deadly strikes after moving his opponent into place. I've meet two other members of my school. Both had very different styles and were nothing like my father or Happousai, even though they trained under the old fool before my dad was born."  
"So what do you know?"  
"A lot, but not enough. Straight kenpo I'm very good, maybe ninth dan or almost a grand master, with a few others I'd probably rank in the fifth to seventh dan. There are several more schools I could beat their second dan with only a little trouble, but as a practitioner of my school I'm one or two step from a grand master."  
"High opinion of yourself?" Mousse asked, but it wasn't a question. He thought he was seeing Ranma's arrogance again.  
"No, I know my school and you don't. I told you it was a philosophy not a style. I can use most weapons. I know their advantages and disad- vantages. I've watched thousands of martial artists and fought just as many. The trick is in how you fight. What are you? Maybe an eighth dan in your school?"  
"Seventh," Mousse answered, "I was tested at seventh before I left for Japan."  
"So you're probably eighth or ninth now. You've had a lot of prac- tice fighting me and the others."  
"What does this have to do with anything?"  
"It's simple. In your style, I can't beat you. I'm maybe a high beginner, but when I fight you with Anything Goes I become the eighth dan and you the beginner." Mousse gave Ranma a skeptical look, but Ranma ignored him. "It is because Anything Goes is trained as a fighting school. We learn as much as we can and incorporate it into our own style which is unknown to any but the student himself. Because of this, you cannot even begin to guess how I'm going to attack or with what. One moment I'm fighting with kenpo, the next I might grab a weapon to slash you backward, and then switch quickly into judo to get the maximum from a throw only to finish with a combination that exists only in my style. How can you fight that? You can't unless you're really good, like Cologne and Ryouga, but even they use a little bit of Anything Goes in their styles, and I'd bet money that Ryouga's family were practitioners of it until they formed their own school."   
"So what are you going to teach me? All those other styles?" Mousse argued. "That'll take years, not a month."  
"I'm not teaching you any new style. I'm going to teach you how to observe and learn from others. I'm going to improve the basics in you, speed, strength, agility, endurance, coordination. I'm going to build a core that can accommodate the Anything Goes style. That will take a month, and from there you are on your own. You'll have to learn the techniques that will defeat Shampoo. I'm trusting in you."  
"You can trust in me," Mousse answered after a few minutes. What Ranma had said made sense, and he was prepared to give him a chance.  
"Good," Ranma said and held up the rope, "Now take off your robe and tie this around your waist. We're going to work on balance, and I'm not letting you stop until you've collapsed on the ground."  
Grabbing a mug of hot water, Mousse headed for the nearby stream. Ranma had been true to his word. For a week they had traveled and trained, trained until he could barely stand at the end of the day. It was a new experience for Mousse. He was accustomed to training and practice, but the way Ranma went about it was nearly fanatical. No, he corrected himself, it was fanatical.   
Ranma had a strange concept of training. He considered everything worth training. Even traveling from place to place, Mousse was uncertain when Ranma would suddenly start training him. But even as annoying as that was, it was nowhere near as annoying as the 'training' that had taken place the last two nights while he was sleeping. Sometimes Ranma took it too far.  
Mumbling vulgar epithets under his breathe, he removed his clothes and splashed into the stream, his curses turning to angry quacks as he paddled around the stream and dipped beneath the water, enjoying the feel of the water beading off his water proof feathers. Diving under water again, he shook himself, allowing the oil from his skin to work up the feathers as the water touched his inner down.   
Invigorated by the cold water and the avian joy he got from swim- ming, he waddled from the stream and knocked the hot water on himself, instantly becoming a human again. Gathering his clothes, he slipped into his pants and returned to the camp to find Ranma dressed in a white Chinese battle shirt by the fire. He was heating lunch, a simple soup, while some dried rice cakes warmed on the fire stones.  
Plopping in front of the fire, Mousse snagged a rice cake and began munching on it. "Are we going to spar this afternoon?" he asked between bites.  
"No," Ranma answered simply as he pulled the soup from the flames and dished it out.  
"Why?" Mousse protested. "I've been training every hour of the day for a week. I've been run ragged, bruised, beaten, dirtied, and now bloodied." He presented the shoulder that had been cut by a rock to Ranma. "I think I deserve to test that on someone."  
Ranma handed Mousse a bowl of soup in answer, his eyes boring into Mousse's own. The blue was hard like granite, unyielding and very disap- proving of his comments. Ranma's eyes were always like that. After a week under their scrutiny, Mousse had learned to read Ranma's mood well. He had the most expressive eyes Mousse had ever seen. A poet had once said that the eyes were the mirror to the soul, it was true with Ranma. Ranma rarely gave compliments, and often talked with a blustering bravado, but neither represented him well. If he approved, his eyes would sparkle and almost smile even as he berated Mousse's style. If he was angry or disappointed, they flashed a dark blue and than became the granite Mousse was now staring at.   
"I'll decide when we spar. I'm not in the mood for it now, and you're not ready."  
"How will I get ready, if I don't spar against someone?"  
"If I give a new student a sharp katana and tell him to fight me, is he going to get better or slice off his foot?"  
"But we'd be using bokkens," Mousse argued, hoping to make Ranma see the obvious.  
"Drop it, Mousse," Ranma snapped, "I'm in no mood for this today."  
"So now fighting is a mood thing?"  
"I never said that."  
"Then what are you saying? That you don't want me to get better? You don't want me to beat Shampoo? I thought you did, but I don't see how that is going to help!" Mousse pointed his finger at the remaining rocks.   
"I'm trying to make you better. Maybe this ain't the best way, but it works, and it works fast. I need results, and I'm getting them. When I think you're ready, I'll spar with you. I promised you Shampoo, and you'll get her."  
"You would've promised Shampoo to anyone," Mousse said calmly from a seated position, "if they would've gotten her off your back. Well, I love her too much to make her a toy."  
Lost in his own martyrdom, Mousse was startled when Ranma surged to his feet, his eyes burning as he glared down into Mousse's upraised face. "Who's made who a toy? Answer that Mousse. I'm just a prize to be won by Cologne and Shampoo. They gain honour and protect the precious pride of the tribe if I marry Shampoo. Do I have a say in this? No! Can I do a damn thing about it? Until now, no! Maybe I'm treating her like a toy, but at least I'm doing it so she won't be hurt too much. At least she'll have someone who loves her."  
"That still doesn't make it right!" Mousse retorted leaping to his feet, his face inches from Ranma's. "So why should I endure this?"  
"Because, just like me, you don't have a choice," Ranma answered emphasizing each word with a step, forcing Mousse to retreat. "You're bound by your tribe's law. Whoever beats her, gets her. If you think I like being with you, then you're just as mistaken. I don't like this. I could be at home. I could be with Akane right now, but I've gotta run all over Japan training you and then go to Hong Kong. If I had my choice, I'd walk away right now. I've got my own problems, and I don't need you as one of them. But I can't. So just leave me alone. We're done for today, Mousse." Clamping his mouth shut, Ranma spun away. For a moment, Mousse saw eyes smoldering like a rabid beast. Then Ranma was gone, disappearing into the trees without a sound.   
Shuddering, Mousse sank back to the ground and watched the fire crackle merrily. He found no comfort in its warmth though. Ranma's dark gaze had chilled his heart as if death's angel had grasped his hand. For a moment he had thought his life in danger and knew, in an instant, there was nothing he could do to prevent what might happen.  
Somehow he had tapped a festering wound within Ranma. Whether it was his callous words and presumptuous airs, or his own disgust at Ranma using Shampoo that had done it, he was not sure. It was clear, however, that he had to find out, if not for his own safety, then to help Ranma. He knew a man who was being eaten by an inner demon. He promised himself to speak with Ranma that night, as a friend. Watching the swaying bran- ches that marked Ranma's passage, Mousse realized Ranma needed a friend more than anything else.  
  
-- 3 --   
  
Ranma forced himself to walk, forced his legs to carry him away, away from Mousse, away from the burning rage, but from himself there was no escape. After little more than a mile it caught up with him. Memories of the past, of being used and hounded after like a preschooler's toy. Like a wave it crashed over him, filling his body with searing hatred. With a cry, he unleashed it, his glowing fist slamming into the earth, the ground rippling around him as his rage poured forth shaking trees and cracking rock.   
His rage spent, the wave slid back to sea, the undercurrent grab- bing his feet, dragging him with it. At first, he allowed it to carry him deeper into himself, to the oblivion that awaited. He didn't want this anymore. He was tired of fighting, tired of what it took to go on each morning.   
As he neared the edge of the drop off, he saw Akane watching him and beside her Xian Lin. Both were pleading with him, begging him to return.   
Love and duty. Neither of which he could deny.  
Gritting his teeth, he fought for them. He would swim. They pulled him upward, forced him to tread water. Eventually, he was in control again, floating over his rage and helplessness. Although he was far from shore, as long as Akane and Xian Lin were there, he would be safe. At least he would for a time.  
Ranma opened his eyes to a battered world. The earth was scorched, the trees still swaying, a few of the smaller ones cracked and fallen. It was a grim reminder to him of his own power. Though terri- fying on its own, with his rage, it became horrific. He had to control it, but it was like trying to control an avalanche by standing in front of it. It scared him. He could understand the hatred of Cologne. He could deal with the simmering anger against being used, but why did he explode at little things like Mousse's words? It was like a trigger was pulled. One word led to another, and soon it snowballed, dredging up every insult enacted upon his person as it rolled over him, carrying him to destruction and finally death.   
This time he had held it off, but he had always stopped it without an outburst before. How long before the anger snapped him in two? Before the safety net frayed, and he was swept away by it? It could not be long. Each time brought him closer. He just hoped he would be finished with Cologne before it happened.  
It was only rational that it was because of Cologne and his recent problems that he was losing his focus, his control. Once she had been removed from the picture, his life would become easier, would begin anew. In Nerima he had Akane waiting for him. Ukyou was still there as a friend and confidant. That only left Xian Lin, his curse, and his own family. All uncertainties, but no pressure except with Xian Lin.  
Until that time, he had to cope, put up as many defenses as possi- ble, bury it as deep as he could. Xian Lin's techniques had not done it, so he would use his own. Training and the Art could bring him his wa, contain the demons that raged within him. But even that seemed as if he was running away from everything and just making it worse. He shook his head. If he had control, it would never happen again. Pushing himself to his feet, Ranma made his way slowly back to camp, hoping Mousse would not be there.  
  
-- 4 --   
  
Mousse had left the campsite a few minutes after Ranma, hoping a calming constitutional would clear his mind and give him the wisdom and strength to proceed. It had done neither very effectively. So, as always, he returned to camp with more questions than answers, only knowing that this was his only way to Shampoo, and that he didn't under- stand Ranma in the slightest.  
Moving silently throughout the trees, he saw the campsite unfold ahead of him as the trees thinned. Hoping to get something more substan- tial to eat than the rice cake, he began to increase his pace. There might even be the chance for him to practice his Art, since Ranma had called off the training for the day. A slight flash of white and black in the corner of his eye though, brought his steps to a halt, and then beheaded his short-lived prospects of fun.   
Ranma walked into the clearing they had built their campsite in. His hair was slightly wild, and his shirt bedraggled and dirty as if he had been rolling in the dirt. Whether because of this or not, Ranma striped off his shirt and threw it at his sleeping mat as he walked to the center of the clearing.  
Mousse watched in fascination as Ranma walked with heavy steps, his eyes flashing even at this distance. Once in the center, he slipped into a ready stance and then began to move through a kata. His movements were deliberate and choppy like an automaton at one of those family resorts. It was not something Mousse expected to see, and after a few moments it became obvious Ranma did not like it either.  
He halted in the middle of a form and growled something under his breath. Mousse watched as he went back to the ready stance and commenced the kata once more. Although he started out smooth, his moves became rough after only a few positions. Again Ranma stopped and went back to the ready position.  
Four more times he started, and four more times Ranma halted him- self in mid-form. Finally after the fifth failure, Mousse could see the anger darkening Ranma's brow. He was about to slink away, leaving Ranma to his own, when Ranma just sank to the ground and held his head in his hands. If it had been anyone else but Ranma, Mousse would've sworn he was crying, but even without his glasses, he knew that Ranma was not crying.  
He watched as Ranma's hand slipped to the pouch on his belt. For the hundredth time, he wondered what was in it. Ranma had never men- tioned it and had avoided his questions about it, but it still nagged at him. Whatever it was, it seemed to calm Ranma. His breathing was more even now, not the short inhales he had been taking. Standing up, he entered the ready stance, but this time moved to a different opening.  
It was a simple kata even Mousse knew was common, in one way or another, to every form. It went through the basic stances for kicks, punches and blocks, traveling in a circle until the original position was once again formed.  
Ranma did the kata slowly, like a beginner, his body moving with agonizing slowness, each move formed with perfect precision before going onto the next. There was nothing amazing about it, but Mousse was still mesmerized as Ranma reached the ready position and began the cycle once again. Though the speed did not increase, Mousse saw the difference in the forms. They were smoother, more confident as Ranma seemed to almost flow through him.  
As the second series ended, Ranma closed his eyes and began the third. Mousse watched in fascination and then frowned. It was not the same this time. At first he could not place it, but at the climax of the kata, before it began its descent back to the ready position, he under- stood. Ranma had subtly changed each placement so that, at the end, he was attacking in such a way that the opponent would have been unable to block, even if he had known the kata.  
Now Mousse was even more enraptured. He watched as Ranma repeated the kata again and again. Each time it changed slightly, a foot posi- tion, a length of step or depth of block. Soon it was not the simple kata of beginners, but a complex weave of attacks and parries that flowed around the clearing until it came back to the original position and began again like a round of music where one person starts the melody and the next repeats and emphasizes.  
As he watched, Mousse began to understand Ranma's words of the first day. He watched Ranma closely, seeing the styles he incorporated into the simple kata, and was amazed. There was no pattern in the kata. Each repetition was different enough from the one before that the attacks, while expected, could not be stopped. The amazing thing was that Mousse could still see the beginner's kata within the complex weave of Ranma's forms. It was the base upon which he was building, emphasi- zing or only changing slightly to bring about the desired effect.   
It was as if a door opened in his mind. He began to understand Ranma's teaching style and thereby the Anything Goes School of Martial Arts. He was not interested in the style so much as the process. By understanding himself and building his eye and body, Mousse realized he could easily adapt anything to fit him or fit himself to anything. Ranma was not practicing a kata, he was developing a technique as he flowed around the clearing, and that was what he wanted Mousse to be able to do, not memorize something but to create something that fit him or reacted to the environment around him.  
With a new found respect, Mousse continued to watch Ranma as he reached the ready position again. This time as Ranma started, Mousse inhaled sharply, his breath catching in his throat. He saw it almost immediately. He saw Ranma's body relax, the muscles loosening as Ranma took the first step forward. Then he moved into the first from.  
Before Ranma had been a graceful figure, dancing with his body in an imaginary battle, changing the form and making it beautiful to behold. Now the form was no longer important. Mousse was captivated by Ranma. It was as if something took over Ranma's mind and did everything for him. His body flowed from one form to the next, the form's changing to conform to his body.  
It went beyond art. Mousse watched the subtle play of muscles as every single piece of Ranma's body working to create the perfect balance and form. He watched the muslces ripple underneath Ranma's skin as his skin reflected the sun, the white line of a scar accenting the body instead of detracting from the perfection. So too was each movement the bare minimum needed, each position accenting Ranma's abilities while his body gave the form its substance.   
Never in his life had Mousse seen the like from any martial artist. This was perfection. Ranma had somehow become one with himself and the Art to create this dazzling display. Mousse would never remember what Ranma did that afternoon. It was no longer a kata but a flowing of movement from one position to the next, each move needed because of the form before it and because of the body itself. It was impossible to memorize, but Mousse would always remember Ranma's tanned body flowing through the molted forest light, the standard of what a martial artist should be, but could never be.  
  
-- 5 --   
  
The angry chattering of a squirrel, brought Mousse into wakeful- ness. Rubbing his eyes, he blinked at the bright light as he groped for his glasses. Finding them, he slipped them on and groggily looked about the campsite.   
Nothing was amiss. The fire was burning with Ranma seated by its side, having woken before him. For a moment Mousse wondered if Ranma ever slept. Ranma was always up before him, and he never went to bed before him. It was just like last night. Ranma had still been up, watching the fire when Mousse had slipped into his own bed, and now he was by the fire again, for all appearances, looking as if had never moved.   
Only his face was different. Instead of the slightly bewildered yet content expression of last night, a brooding frown covered his brow. Mousse was almost tempted to stay in bed or slip away when he saw Ran- ma's countenance, but he had promised himself to talk to Ranma. So he pulled himself from bed and brought his cooking utensils to the fire.  
Sitting across from Ranma, he filled a pot with water and placed it on a stone in the fire. Glancing over at Ranma's troubled face, he deci- ded it was a good time to the break the ice, and given Ranma's apparent mood, he thought an apology was the best. "Ranma?" he asked tentatively, bowing his head slightly. Ranma did not say a thing, but lifted his eyes from his intense study of the glowing embers in response. "I just wanted to apologize for yesterday. I had no right to question you. You're the teacher, and I agreed to it. I'm sorry for my loss of control."  
Ranma did not respond, and, when Mousse chanced a quick glance upward, he saw his teacher's eyes again contemplating the fire as if it held the secret of life. After a while he became convinced Ranma was ignoring him, or was just not going to answer when he spoke. "There is no need for that. A student may question, just not in the way you did. And though it is right for a teacher to discipline, I shouldn't have lost it like that. I could've hurt you or even killed you."  
"I doubt hate-filled glares would hurt me," Mousse answered.  
"Do you have nightmares, Mousse?" Ranma asked, seemingly ignoring Mousse's comment.  
"Nightmares? Yeah. I guess. I mean doesn't everyone?"  
"Are they the same one again and again? Making it impossible for you to sleep? To find peace? Well, they are for me, and I can't take it anymore. I realized that yesterday." Ranma paused for a moment and then lifted his eyes to Mousse and spoke. "I want you to find a different teacher. I can't teach you anymore. I'm afraid I might hurt you."  
Mousse was stunned by the pleading expression on Ranma's face, mocking the haunted eyes. "What's going on with you? What dreams are you talking about? And who else could ever train me? You need me, Ranma! *I* need you!"  
"I had to try," Ranma said. "I knew you'd say that. We make a fine pair. Too stubborn to back down, and too arrogant to admit when we're wrong. Well, I'm telling you to leave. I won't have another problem on my hands. I've got enough to deal with. I've done enough training for you. If you practice and find someone else, you'll defeat Shampoo. Just be in Hong Kong in three weeks. That's all I ask."  
"I'm not leaving until I get an answer," Mousse stated defiantly.  
"What's there to answer?" Ranma asked in a tired voice.  
"Everything. How long have we been fighting, Ranma? A year? Maybe more? I really don't remember anymore. It has become sort of a blur. But over that time I do know what I learned about you. Eventhough we were enemies, I respected you. I don't know why. You just had this personal- ity it was hard to resist. You fought when you had to, but never against those too weak. Even you yourself told me that you rarely fight to your potential. And there was always this cheerful air about you. You seemed to enjoy life, but now look at you. I've never seen someone so...so...I don't even know what it is. You look like a demon is eating you from the inside. And, even if I'm not your friend, I owe you."  
"How do you owe me?" The edge was gone from Ranma's voice, but Mousse knew he was nowhere near to cracking the shell around Ranma.  
"You're giving me the one thing I've always wanted. I owe you for that. So just tell me, Ranma. What is actually going on here? I've kept my questions for a week, but now, now it is going to far, and I think you're about to kill someone. Probably yourself."  
Surprisingly, Ranma began to laugh. "No, that'd please Cologne too much. Besides I already tried, and it didn't work out." Ranma fell silent again and turned to face the forest and then back to the fire before finally coming to rest on a concerned and very confused Mousse. "It started three weeks ago. I was at the movies with Akane. Our first real date. Some things had happened that sorta brought us together. Well, Shampoo showed up and ruined the night, chasing Akane away. I blew up. I was so pissed at her for ruining the night. I told her there was nothing between us, that she would never have me, then I went after Akane."   
"You shouldn't do things like that," Mousse stated. "Shampoo can be very vindicative."  
Ranma sighed and nodded his head. "I know I shouldn't have done that, but I didn't have a choice. Things went downhill from there. I broke my engagements. I wanted Akane and me to have a chance, but Cologne," Ranma spat the name, "decided to take things into her own hands. She wanted me to be punished for my slights on her honour. Hmph! More like her wounded pride. So she 'punished' me with this." Ranma pulled open the pouch on his belt and pulled out a small idol for Mousse to see.  
It took a moment for Mousse to recognize it, but when he did, his mouth went dry, and he backed several paces from the fire. "How?..Where? ...You can't! That's impossible. Even the Amazon's don't use that any- more. It's too dangerous for us, and you're not Dedicated." He stopped and glanced up at Ranma. "How long have you had that?"  
"Since I broke free."  
"You broke...without a Matriarch to reverse the Judgement. That's impossible!"  
"I didn't do it on my own," Ranma answered, examining the idol instead of Mousse. "Toufu-sensei did something at the end after Cologne 'forgot' to complete the ceremony. And Xian Lin. She sacrificed herself for me, and now she's in my dreams, always suffering. Calling out for my help, but I can't do anything, dammit! I can't do a damn thing about any of this!"  
"Ranma," Mousse said solemnly. "What Cologne did to you was wrong"  
"Thanks for the news flash," Ranma answered bitterly.  
"You don't understand, Ranma. The Judgement is never given out lightly. It-it requires a very serious transgression for even an Amazon to receive it. Even then it takes all the Matriarchs to agree on it. Most often, especially in the recent generations, the Amazon has been given the chance to choose banishment and the loss of all family honour. Some don't take that option and go to Boukyaku, but it is rare even among the rare occurrences of The Judgement."  
"I don't think Cologne was too worried about banishing me. She wanted me dead. Why else would she place this kinda curse on me?"  
"She had no right to. It is never done on one not Dedicated, and for what she used it for," Mousse shook his head. "She could be given the Judgement for that."   
Ranma lifted his head at that. "I think I'd like that, Mousse."  
If Mousse had been shocked before, he was in a state of apoplexy now. "No, you don't know what you're talking about. She's a Matriarch of the Tribe. She is the oldest member of one of the Thirteen Clans. If she is sent to Boukyaku..." Mousse trailed off as he saw Ranma's determined eyes. "No one deserves that, Ranma. No matter how much you hate her. You don't understand what you're asking."  
"I think I understand more than anyone else ever could or ever will. I was in this thing for two weeks!" Ranma screamed, waving the idol under Mousse's trembling face. "Don't you ever tell me I don't know what it means. I was faced with my destruction every moment I was in there. Do you know what that's like? Could you ever have a clue?" Mousse shook his head mutely. "I want my revenge, Mousse. She has done enough to me. It's not enough anymore to just keep Shampoo from marrying me. Cologne will think of something else, and I won't be able to, nor will I try to, hide my relationship with Akane. And once Cologne sees that..." Ranma's eyes were blazing with fury at the moment, an intense fire that made the one Mousse warmed his hands at seem like ice, but his voice was a steely rasp of cold, calculating hatred. "She will not get the chance to touch her. I will bury her before she does that."  
Mousse bowed his head under the onslaught. He could see there was no way to reason with Ranma. Maybe if it was just rage and hatred he could, but Ranma had connected Akane with his vendetta, and even Mousse knew the lengths Ranma would go for Akane. He owed Ranma because Ranma had given him a chance at Shampoo. He owed Ranma for the months of hounding and hatred he had harboured against him. More than that he had to protect the Amazon tribe as much as possible. There was no doubt in his mind that Ranma would and probably could crush the tribe to destroy Cologne.   
How could he prevent that? The light in Ranma's face and eyes told Mousse he was a very determined man, a man who had been forced to grow up in a very short time by circumstances beyond his control. Ranma had matured in the past few months to someone Mousse had no experience with, except for the last few days. In that he had only seen what Ranma wanted him to see, a teacher and a martial artist. This was a dangerous man, but one who deserved his help.  
To do that he knew he would have to get to know Ranma, become his friend. Could he push aside his old hatred like a curtain obscuring his view? He did not know, but by staying with Ranma and helping him, talk- ing to him, he might find a way to like his old nemesis. "Ranma," he said quietly, "I'd like to help you. What Cologne did was wrong and she deserves to be punished by the Tribe, but not in your way. You're giving me a chance at Shampoo, let me give you a chance at peace of mind."  
Ranma stared at him for a moment. Mousse did not know if it was surprise or gratitude that filled his face but it didn't matter when Ranma spoke. "Arigato. I-I need someone I can count on, someone who can help me. I don't want to burden those I love. I've hurt them enough already. I'll take you up on the offer." There was silence for a moment as Mousse mentally sighed in relief. "I guess that means I'm still training you."  
"I guess," Mousse acknowledged.  
"Then what are you doing sitting around?" Ranma asked. "You're no where near ready enough." Ranma pushed himself to his feet and slipped the idol back into its pouch. "On your feet!" Mousse snapped to his feet in surprise, his sudden movement knocking the boiling water into the fire. "Clumsy. I think we're gonna work on coordination today." Mousse sighed and followed Ranma as he walked from the campsite. Behind them the fire regained its composure and began to burn again despite the small, watery setback.  
  
-- 6 --   
  
They broke camp the next morning and left the slopes of Mount Fuji behind them as they descended toward Gotemba and the main super highway that curved around the city. It took a day of walking to reach a rest area near the city, and several more hours to find a truck heading in the right direction that they could stow-away on.  
Ranma spent most of the trip south sleeping, trying to make up for a week of restless nights and most likely several more weeks ahead of him. Mousse spent the time watching the cities and country-side of Japan fly past them in a blur. They had obviously chosen a good driver. Fif- teen hours later they snuck off of the truck in another rest stop at the edge of the Kyoto Prefecture.  
Ranma and Mousse quickly settled into a daily schedule of training and traveling from that point on. Mousse was actually surprised by Ran- ma's knowledge of both martial arts and training grounds. Ranma seemed to have memorized nearly every Buddhist and Shinto temple that had ever taught a form of martial arts in it's past and just as many training grounds, both active and ruined from years of neglect.  
Though Ranma had not yet sparred against him, he led Mousse north through Kyoto and often had him challenge local martial artists in the small towns and temples they encountered. At first Ranma refused to let him use his weapons, telling him to instead use the skills he had been developing to fight.  
The first challenge was nearly a disaster. He faced off against a tall heavily muscled man who preferred the bo-staff and used the Houzouin Style to take advantage of his strength and speed, Mousse was at an early disadvantage. Though he would have been able to easily defeat the man with his own style, Ranma had forbidden it. So he was forced to face the man with hand and foot, his robe and shirt discarded on the side of the ring. He managed to dodge the first few blows, but one landed, sending him sprawling and igniting a burning pain in his side from the lash of the bamboo staff.  
"You're never gonna beat him if you don't attack," Ranma commented from the sidelines. A small wave of laughter floated through the gather- ed spectators at Ranma's comment. Mousse ignored it and the speculative looks the young women were throwing him and Ranma. Without a sound, he leaped forward ready to attack. The swinging staff of his opponent, however, brought that plan short as Mousse was sent tumbling once more.  
"What did I tell you?" Ranma snapped. "Analyze, adapt, and over- come. Kunou could beat that fool. Heck, Gosunkugi could beat him. Now are you gonna do this right, or do I hafta show you how?"  
Brushing the dirt off, Mousse regained his feet while glaring at Ranma. His opponent was waiting expectantly, a slightly amused look on his face. For some reason, it irritated Mousse even more than Ranma's comments. The tittering crowd did not make matters any better. He'd show them, but he'd do it carefully. This was no time for rash behaviour.  
Slowly, he began to circle his opponent, imagining a length of rope tied from his waist to the opponent, like Ranma had done their first day of trianing. He pictured it just longer than the reach of the staff, but not by much. His opponent didn't realize this, and was calculating if he could hit Mousse. Mousse could see it in his eyes and by the slight fur- row on his brow. Taking a step in, he closed the distance until he was only a few centimeters outside the man's reach. His opponent took the bait.  
He stepped forward.   
Mousse stepped back.   
The bo-staff whizzed in front of Mousse's chest, but Mousse was moving the moment the bamboo staff whistled past him. He was within the man's reach in an instant, using his Swan Kick to strike the man's midsection as he struck the collarbone with a knifehand. Mousse however, underestimated the man's strength and speed. Before he could get out, the staff swung back around connecting solidly with his midsection.  
Grunting in surprise, Mousse reacted quickly, curling his body around the staff and using his weight to tear it from the man's hands. Although the blow stunned him, Mousse was able to get to his feet before the hulking ape could gather his wits and retrieve the staff. With a weapon in his hand, Mousse felt his confidence build. He spun it through his hands, flashing it from move to move before coming down in a ready stance. Then a stone struck the staff, snapping it in two and knocking it from Mousse's hand.  
The ape smiled evilly and advanced. Mousse shot Ranma a dirty look. Ranma returned the glare with an innocent "what did I do?" look. Then the fight was on. It was a dirty and quick match, the ape-like man using his height and weight to try and pin Mousse down. Mousse was forced to go low, striking at the knees and hip joints. The giant quickly fell, but kept on fighting by grappling Mousse's legs and dragging him down. Reacting quickly, Mousse loosened his leg muscle, a trick from his style, and broke one of the vice-like grips the man had on his ankles. The next instant he smashed his foot into the man's face, once, twice, thrice, knocking the man unconscious.  
Taking a shuddering breath, Mousse extracted himself and stood up. Shooting an accusing glare at Ranma, he accepted some water from a small girl, while a few of the villagers helped the large man to his feet. "You're learning," Ranma commented from behind him. But when Mousse turned to retort, Ranma was already walking from the village, a backpack on his shoulders. Cursing, Mousse was forced to forgo the victor's laurels and hurry after his sensei.   
The next challenges went easier. Mousse learned from the first experience what Ranma wanted. He wanted him to out think his opponents by finding their weak points and then exploit them. Ranma also wanted him to develop his own style that accented his weaponry skills while still making him harder to fight against.  
Mousse began to enjoy the training. In each village and temple, Mousse found himself treated with respect and more than polite interest. Traveling students were rare these days, so someone like Mousse was enough to generate rumours and stories that would last through a season.  
Where Mousse received acceptance and understanding, Ranma was met with scarcely veiled contempt. This did not come from the normal villa- gers but the instructors of the other schools. They refused to believe that a seventeen year-old could ever train a decent martial artist, and many went so far as to openly petition Mousse to join their schools while Ranma was eating with them.  
Ranma was never one to hold his tongue, and though he always entered the dojo and villages with a very reserved tongue, the similar nature and frequency of the disrespect shown to him made it impossible for him to hold his tongue for long. Mousse himself had trouble holding his temper in check on those occasions. He knew Ranma was young, but after traveling with him and watching several dozen other instructors, he had become deeply respectful of how knowledgeable Ranma was and how good his teaching skills actually were.  
On most occasions the confrontations settled of their own accord, but more than a few times Ranma was forced into a match against the dojo-sensei. Mousse knew Ranma hated it. Mostly because Ranma was better than every martial artist they encountered.   
Despite not liking the challenges and being better than them, Ranma never put down a school's master in a matter of seconds. Instead he played with them, but made it seem like they were in an even contest. He even went so far as too make it look like the masters struck blows and that he landed blows. Mousse, however, could see that no one ever touched Ranma, nor did Ranma hit hard, the students did not have the experience, and many master's who would've watched wouldn't have known either. Ranma was just too good.  
Mousse knew why Ranma did this. By play-acting the fight like he did, Ranma insulted the master, but allowed him to keep face with his students. It was coldly calculated on Ranma's part and always brought about the same response from the aggressors when Ranma grew bored of the charade and finished the fight in but a few blows. Ranma did not seem to care though and left quickly after each challenge.  
They worked their way north through Kyoto, east into Hyougo and then into Shimane for two days before striking southward into Okayama for four days. From here they hitchhiked across Hiroshima and spent several days within Yamaguchi before crossing over to Kyuushuu and Fukuoka Prefecture.  
The pace was a rapid one, and it confused Mousse. Although they covered a lot of ground and went to many places, sometimes three or four in a day, there were many places they had skipped that they could have gone through. One night, within their second week, while they were still in Shimane Prefecture, Mousse brought this up over dinner.  
"Ranma, why are we moving so fast? I mean there are many places that you've been to and told me about, but we don't go there."   
"They won't help you that much," Ranma shrugged as he dished out some rice and grabbed a few pickles the last temple had donated to them. "Besides, if we stopped at every temple, village, and training ground, it would take us a year to get from here to Kyuushuu. I spent ten years wandering Japan, and trust me, there are still places I have yet to go. We don't have that much time, and we need to be in Omura in two weeks."  
"Why Omura?"  
"I need an airport to get to Hong Kong. I've enough money to buy us both round-trip tickets to Hong Kong, but I have to fly from somewhere in Kyuushuu or else it will be too expensive for both of us to go."  
"Oh! That makes sense," Mousse decided and then began to eat as Ranma dug into his own food also.  
Nights were often like that for them. During the day Ranma rarely spoke unless it was related to training or Mousse asked a question about the area they were traveling through. Ranma told Mousse a little of his travels through this area of Japan. Mousse was surprised by Ranma's memory, especially when he admitted that he hadn't been down near Kyoto and Hiroshima since he was eleven. After that he had spent most of his time in Hokkaidou and northern Honshu before traveling to China when he was fifteen. It was in their nightly talks by the fire, though, that Ranma opened up under Mousse's probing questions.  
They never followed a pattern in their discussions. Mousse was trying more to find out what made Ranma tick. It didn't work out exactly as Mousse wanted. Ranma was good at keeping painful memories below the surface and even better at skirting them in stories. Despite that, Mousse still learned a lot about Ranma in their short time together and began to realize that Ranma was a much deeper person than he actually appeared to be. He had a fine grasp of martial history and thereby the history of Japan and surprisingly parts of China and Korea. But it was Ranma's willingness to ask questions and probe into subjects that affected him that surprised Mousse the most.  
They had been on the road for thirteen days and had camped early to regain their strength for the next length of the Journey across Okayama the next day. If they didn't find a ride quickly, they would have to spend most of the next day running with brief walking breaks, so they knew they had wanted to get some rest, but instead they found themselves talking around the fire late into the night.  
"I don't believe your father did that," Mousse exclaimed, trying to control his laughter and failing. Ranma's serious face made it even har- der for him to do it.  
"I wouldn't lie about something like that," Ranma said, smiling slightly, the fire light reflecting off his teeth and eyes.  
"But dressing up as a woman to con some food out of a vendor? That's too much." Mousse broke down again and began laughing until tears rolled down his cheeks.  
"Oyaji was always a sucker for a bet, and had the worst luck of anyone I've seen. If he can't cheat, he can't win," Ranma said.  
"D-di-didn't he know you would win?"  
"Maybe, but he made the bet anyway. To him, having me cook, clean, and secure supplies for a month was worth dressing up."  
"What makes someone do something like that?"  
"What makes someone do anything at all? Why do so many girls chase after me even if I don't encourage them? Why do you love Shampoo?"  
"Why do you love Akane?" Mousse shot back.  
"Oh no you don't," Ranma tsked. "I asked first. So you get the honour of answering first."  
"I guess it's a lot of things," Mousse answered after a moment of reflection. "We were both born in the same month and Dedicated on the same day. She's about a week older than me, but she never makes an issue of it. Her mother was the premier fighter of our Clan. She had won the clan place for nearly a decade running, and for the few years before Shampoo's birth she had been the Tribal Champion. That gave her a special status among the Council. It allowed her to sit in with the Matriarchs and actually discuss instead of listen like the other Clan victors. I don't know much about Shampoo's father. He is quiet and with- drawn. Many wondered how he defeated Shampoo's mother, but the rumor was that Shampoo's mother let him win because she loved him. My father was the best male fighter in our Clan, and though he did not win any place- ment in the Tribe until I was maybe six, he was still the best within the Clan and so held a place of honour next to Shampoo's mother. They were responsible for training the new warriors, and, as such, Shampoo and I were together a lot."  
"So you liked her because you were close?" Ranma asked curiously.  
"No. Shampoo was very different when she was a child. Her mother's death affected her very deeply."  
"How so?" Ranma asked, curious about the purple-haired girl that chased him without pause.  
"I'd rather not say. It's not my story to tell," Mousse begged off before continuing as if nothing had interrupted. "We were good friends from the moment we were allowed to play together until I made my inten- tions known when we were six."  
"Six?" Ranma asked incredulous. "You started chasing after a girl when you were six? I didn't even know the difference between boys and girls until I was eight and spent a semester at a co-ed school."  
"Actually, I decided to go after Shampoo when I was three. No one knew about my vision problem until I was about four or five. Before that I kept making a fool of myself talking to inanimate objects and bumping into things. This is humiliating for an Amazon, and the other children who were growing up with me and training with me used to think it was fun to play tricks on me. All except Shampoo. She stuck up for me and faced them down. Even at three she was a fierce girl. I remember her taking down an eight year old who had gotten in the middle of one of our games to bother me. I fell in love with her at that moment and began staying by her learning and trying to please her. She thought it was funny and often called me her little shadow, but I didn't mind. She was the one person besides my parents who treated me with respect."  
"But you fought her for her hand, and began chasing after her when you lost," Ranma said quietly.  
"It was when we were six. I had gathered up my courage and let slip the fact that I wanted to marry her when we grew older. She didn't laugh at me but at the thought of marrying. She then told me that only someone who could beat her would win her heart, so I challenged her. She won easily, and I continued to follow her, trying to get her to love me. Then her mother died and everything changed."  
"Has she really had a hard life?" Ranma asked after a moment.  
"It wouldn't look like it. She was the prize of the Clan. It was assumed she would soon become as great as her mother had been and keep our Clan in the position of power. Cologne was even more adamant about it. She wanted Shampoo to be the best and so forced Shampoo's father to let her train Shampoo. Ever since then she has been forced to excel, to be the best, and to always triumph. When you came and beat her so easily, it was too much of a blow for her and a major blow for the Clan and Cologne in particular."  
"So she followed me," Ranma added, "because she had nothing else to base her life on. I never knew."  
"Hai."  
"Why do you still love her? She rejects you and she ignores you so she can follow me, but you still go after her and never give up. I don't understand."  
"If love made sense, no one would seek paradise for we'd already be there." There was silence between the two for a minute before Mousse spoke again. "You question my love for Shampoo because of how she treats me, but you chase after a girl who fights with you, hits you, slaps you, poisons you, and rarely ever agrees with you. Are you any different? How can you love a girl like that? Especially when you have a spirited fighter in Shampoo or a devoted confidant in Ukyou."  
"I don't love either of them," Ranma answered simply, but under Mousse's disbelieving stare, he continued. "Ucchan is my friend and always will be. I know she loves me, and it hurts me to destroy that love because I'm afraid I'll destroy our friendship. I can never love her the way she wants, though. Sure she's a great cook. I can talk to her and unload my problems, but she isn't Akane. And Shampoo, well I don't think we got off to a good start."  
"From what I've heard, neither did you and Akane," Mousse answered with a slight smile.  
"True, but Akane didn't want to kill me from the get go, just make sure we never got married. Besides I just can't understand how Shampoo's mind works. She went from wanting to kill me to wanting to marry me simply too fast. How can I be assured that she loves me or is only con- vincing herself she loves me? And I just don't feel anything when I'm with her."  
Ranma fell silent a moment as his gaze becoame speculative and distant. "Akane though. I don't know why I care so much for her. I hated her after she called me a pervert when she walked in on me. I hated how she kept taking everything I said and did as an insult to her, so I just continued to instigate it. After a while, though, I began to hate myself whenever I made her cry or upset her. But she kept saying she hated me and wanted nothing to do with me. Half the time I believed her, and half the time I didn't. Do you understand?"  
"No," Mousse answered leaning back on the ground and watching the full moon slowly ascend in the night sky as dark clouds boiled in the east, "not really."  
"When we're together, it's like...I don't really know how to de- scribe it. There is a comfort to it. I know she is there, and no matter what I do she'll be there to help me, and I'd do the same for her. Neither of us expected anything from the other, and more often than not expected the worst. Maybe she can't cook, sew, or control her temper, but she wouldn't be Akane if she did."  
Ranma paused and joined Mousse in reclining in the soft grass. "Do you know when I first thought I actually liked her?"  
"No, when was it?"  
"It was before you showed up. Heck, I think it was the first day of school. I had gotten soaked and Kunou was looking for me. Akane brought me some water while I was in a tree. She threw it to me and then went to face Kunou so I could change back into a guy. She did it naturally, without expecting to have me owe her or even like her. That was the first time I began to really respect her."  
"So you love her because you respect her?"  
"Yes. But it's more than that. She doesn't smile a lot, but when she does, it's absolutely gorgeous. I also think some of it is because I can't control her. I don't want a wife who will be domesticated. She has a free spirit that reminds me of, well, me. We complement each other."  
"I still don't see how you can love her, but I'll believe you."  
"I don't either, but when she's not by my side, it feels like I'm empty inside. I used to love traveling, and even with these dreams, this would've been nice, but there is this hole in me where she should be, and I want to get back to her. There is something between us, and the only word I can think of to describe it is love."  
"But..."  
"I'm tired of this, Mousse. Tomorrow is a long day, and this is just gonna depress me if we keep talking about Akane. Besides it's only a few hours before the moon reaches its apex, and then the dreams will come."  
"I'm sorry for keeping you up. Goodnight, Ranma."  
"Sleep well, Mousse. And thanks." Ranma slipped away to his mat and quietly curled up. Mousse watched him fall asleep, his mind at peace for the first time in days. Even though Ranma had been anything but chipper for the last few days and at times caustic and bad-tempered, Mousse had started to peal away the armour encasing Ranma, and he liked what he found under the surface.  
  
-- 7 --   
  
He knew this place. The blasted red earth, the burning sky and fiery ocean all were sights with strong emotions attached for him. Anger, uncertainty, helplessness, and most importantly fear haunted this world, but one other thing was in this place, a person who rivaled Akane for importance in his life. Xian Lin.  
He knew this was a dream, but how he knew that was beyond him. It was not like the others though. It felt different. He was not here because of Xian Lin. He was dreaming for some other reason, and the rank odour that permeated the air, the oppressive glee and hungry that filled the world instead of Xian Lin's comfort confirmed it. Boukyaku had come for him again.  
This time he was ready. He was not enslaved to the statue. He was floating in his body free of the monster's influence, but Xian Lin was not. She was trapped, alone, and he needed to find her.   
Determined, he brushed aside the presence of Boukyaku like it was an annoying fly and began to walk, his confidence growing as the world around him conformed to his wishes. Encapsulated within his own wa, he could feel Boukyaku's burning hatred and shocked displeasure as he walked. More than anything, Boukyaku's lost composure made him smile. When connected to his own body and free of the statue, he was obviously the dominate player, and he enjoyed being in control.  
Boukyaku, however, was bent on breaking his will. With a humourous curiosity, he watched horrors rise from the ground to stand before him. He saw visions of Akane and Ukyou being dismembered and brought to their knees or of Akane betraying him. None of the ploys worked. He could see through the illusions now, and, with a barely perceptible flexing of his mind, he snuffed the annoying illusions as he continued to walk, search- ing for Xian Lin with his mind.  
Suddenly the air shimmered in front of him, a black swirl slowly coalesced from the decaying light that had appeared. The swirling mass slowly took form, and he found himself facing what could only be Boukyaku.  
The demon obviously had more imagination than he had given the thing credit for. Boukyaku stood before him, a golden skinned male towering somewhere near two and a half meters in height. His eyes burned red behind closed lids, his sliver mane flowing down one shoulder and across the hilt of a katana that was belted at the beast's waist.  
"You will be mine again, Ranma." The voice thundered inside of Ran- ma's head, but he ignored it and glared defiantly back at the creature. Boukyaku only laughed. "You are strong, but no one is as strong as me. You're bound to me. I will devour your soul and destroy your world. It was promised to me three thousand years before, and I will get my reward. You will be the second. After I feed upon your beloved Amazon bitch."  
The air began to shimmer again and then Xian Lin was standing beside Boukyaku, her head downcast, her red hair hanging limp about her shoulders. Ranma ignored her. "She's an illusion. You don't have any power here. This is my mind, my body. I rule here, demon!" Ranma hissed.  
"She's not real?" Boukyaku's voice dripped with malicious humour. His hand reached down and cupped Xian Lin's chin and lifted her face so Ranma could see her eyes. They were no longer blue but green, but some- how Ranma knew that was their true colour. "Why don't you see if she is real? Try and destroy this illusion." Boukyaku clenched his hand, his gleaming finger nails biting into Xian Lin's cheek and dragging bloody gouges down them.  
Ranma could not help himself. He reached out with his mind and found Xian Lin's mind screaming in fright and helplessness. It was not her whole spirit, but enough was there to make her feel what was happen- ing. Rage washed through Ranma as her pleas for help echoed in his ears. He struck out, his energy lashing through the air, slamming into the golden-skinned monstrosity in front of him.  
Boukyaku laughed in glee as the power washed over him and then ran off his body like water. "It's a dream mortal. I can't touch you, you can't touch me, but to her I can do whatever I want."  
"Touch her and you'll die!" Ranma growled. His anger was mounting but he could do nothing as he watched Boukyaku lift Xian Lin by the chin. He pulled back his other hand and sent it flashing toward Xian Lin's chest. The cry of horror died in his throat as he watched the fist pass through her skin. Involuntarily his mind went to Xian Lin, trying to help her.  
His efforts were ineffective, slamming into an invisible barrier. In horror, he felt Boukyaku brush her soul. A sickening, oily taste filled his mouth, gagging him. Xian Lin's fear and panic drilled into his mind as a pylon is driven into the ground. He was helplees and couldn't watch. He squeezed his eyes closed, but he could still feel the violation as Boukyaku obscenely caressed Xian Lin's soul, playing with it like it was a helpless kitten.   
Boukyaku struck.  
Pain flared in his mind, sending him realing as Xian Lin began to scream, her voice rising to a tremedndous pitch in his mind. Unable to help himself, his eyes snapped open and he saw the white glow of Xian Lin's soul ripped from her body. A vile taste filled his mouth and senses as her body became an empty husk. He fell to his knees as Bouk- yaku shredded Xian Lin's body, scattering chunks of flesh and bone across the blasted land. Throughout it all, Xian Lin screamed in his mind, a distant howl of grief, pain, and fear.   
Then the glowing ball of her soul was at Boukyaku's mouth and his lips were parting, his tongue touching it, licking it. Revulsion filled him. The teeth descended, Xian Lin screamed. He screamed. Darkness sur- rounded him and it was only her scream of terror and pain filling his mind as Boukyaku's laughter burned in his mind.  
Screaming, he woke from his bed as thunder crashed above him, the rain drenching his body as tears filled his eyes and poured down his cheeks. His stomach turned in nauseating sickness as the pain and horror of the dream continued to assault him. He couldn't stop himself from rolling off the mat and retching on the ground. Xian Lin's screams echoed in his mind as the salty taste of tears mixed with the acidic burning of his own bile assulted him.  
  
-- * --   
  
  
Author's Notes:  
  
I'm just a ripe bastard, aren't I? The sickening part is that I'm not coming back to ranma and Mousse for at least another section, probably pt 5. SO I get to let you seethe and wonder what is going to happen.  
Well, anyway, this part was meant to be a more lighthearted transition piece that exlored the characters of Ranma and Mousse. I've been trying to define my characters, and this way seems to work, if no the best, than damn near close to it. There ain't much else I can say. The part is very straightforward, except maybe the dreams, but then dreams are always hard to understand.   
  
Well, until next time  
Joseph Kohle  
  
Please comment on this.  
  
----*----*----*----*----*----*----*----*----*----  
All rights and priveleges to Ranma Nibunnoichi   
belong to Rumiko Takahashi. The characters of   
Her series are used without her permission for the   
purpose of entertainment only. This work of   
fiction is not meant for sale or profit.   
  
  
All original characters are the creation of the  
author. All copyright privileges to these chara-  
cters are reserved for the author.  
  
This story is a product of the author's hard work   
and imagination. Do not modify, add to, or make   
use of any part of this work without the author's   
knowledge and consent. Please feel free to archive   
this work.   
  
  
Comments and criticism are welcome.   
Written by Joseph A. Kohle, (c) 1997.   
Send all comments to ashira@worldnet.att.net  
Find some of my fics at  
Http://www.geocities.com/Tokyo/Flats/6184/index.html 


	17. Vol 4 Chap 4

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DISCLAIMER: Ranma Nibunnoichi is the property of Takahashi Rumiko, Shogakukan Inc, Shonen Sunday Comics, and Viz Video. It is used without their permission and is not intended for profit but only for the enjoyment of fans of the Ranma series. All characters within this fic that are not the property of the above mentioned are copyrighted to the author, Joseph Kohle, January 1997. This work of fiction is the result of the author's hard work and is for the enjoyment of others. Please do not change, modify, or use any segment of this story without the author's knowing and written consent. Feel free to archive this work.  
  
************************************************************************   
  
Meiyo Ai soshite Nikushimi  
  
A Ranma Nibunnoichi Fanfic  
by Joseph Kohle  
  
Part IV: Separate Paths  
Chapter IV Choosing the Way  
  
-- 1 --  
  
Nervousness, lightly shadowed with a darker anxiety, fluttered in- cessantly within her stomach like a moth vainly throwing itself against a window pane in hopes of finding an escape. Akane could not be blamed for the unease. Few women are ever prepared to face a consultation about an abortion, much less a teenage girl, terrified and alone, who was faced with a life-changing dilemma of which she barely understood the consequences and only held a tenuous grasp of the realities. For this reason, as she opened the door to Tsujimura-sensei's office, she found herself relaxing under that gaze of this man she had dreaded meeting for the entire day.  
Tsujimura-sensei was an older man who stood nearly twenty-five centimeters higher than Akane. His body was large, more of muscle and bone than of flesh. He had the body of a fighter, strong and heavy, yet there exuded about him an aura of gentleness that belied his size. His silvery-gray hair, peppered by black, softened his appearance, as did his face, which was round and jovial rather than the sharper angles Akane had become used to among martial artists. His dark eyes were soft and full of concern, and his hands gentle as he welcomed her to his office and directed her to a cushioned chair.  
That all changed as he began to speak.  
His eyes and voice became serious, his face lost its grandfatherly comfort and charm, and he spoke with the voice of a recording and an exacting detail that left little to the imagination. He charged into his subject with almost no preamble and began to tell Akane exactly what she would be going through if she had an abortion. He was frank in many areas, graphic in others, and at several times, Akane almost bolted from the room in horror. Something, however, kept her in her seat, listening as Tsujimura-sensei lectured her.  
As the tirade ended, Akane was left silent and numb in her seat as tears formed in her eyes. "Do you understand?" Tsujimura asked in a quiet voice. "Do you understand what will happen? What you are going to go through?"  
Akane could barely nod her head. "Why?" she asked. "Why did you tell me all of that? Are you trying to make it worse for me?" The tears were finally cascading down her face. "It was hard enough to come here. It's the only choice I have, and-and you're just making it harder for me to deal with it."  
"I'm sorry," Tsujimura apologized in a soft voice. He pulled a tissue from his desk and handed it to Akane. "Too many people come in here thinking this is the best form of birth control. I just want to make sure each of them understands."  
"I don't care!" Akane snapped. "I don't want to understand! I don't want to deal with any of this."   
Although Tsujimura's gaze was concerned as he watched her, Akane thought she saw indifference in his eyes, as if he heard the same thing a hundred times a week. "Tendou-san, I interview several dozen women a week for the same thing. Most of them walk away, deciding to tough it out. The others stay for various reasons. What about you? Why are you doing this? I know why Toufu-sensei wants you to do this, but what about you? Do you even want to go through with it?"  
Akane wiped away the tears from her cheeks. "I don't know. I really don't. I-I...what else can I do?" she finally exhaled in resignation.  
"There are many options, this isn't the only one," Tsujimura said, placing a comforting hand over Akane's.  
"No, I don't have a choice. You don't understand. I-I'd be a horrid mother," Akane stated. "I can't even talk to Ranma without losing my temper. I know it'd only be worse if we had a kid."  
"Ranma?" Tsujimura asked. "He's the father, ne?"  
Akane nodded.  
"Why didn't he come with you?"  
"He doesn't know..."  
"It's not smart to keep him in the dark. He has a right to know," Tsujimura admonished Akane, interrupting her.  
"I know, but I can't tell him. He's not in Japan right now. He left before I found out, and..." Akane's shoulders slumped in defeat as she sank back into the chair. "What would you do?" she asked as she twisted the tissue to shreds in her lap. "What would you do if you didn't know he'd be back? If you didn't know for sure someone else wouldn't take him? How can you possibly understand what I have to deal with every day?" She knew she was crying again, but she couldn't control the tears. Instead, she angrily brushed them from her eyes.   
Tsujimura-sensei made no comment as Akane tried to regain her composure. He watched as she wiped her eyes dry, sniffling from the emotion. When he felt that she was once again stable, he continued. "Why don't you tell me what I don't understand?" he suggested. "If nothing else, it will give me a place to work from."  
Akane nodded her head. For a while she said nothing, composing her thoughts as her eyes traveled idly over Tsujimura's desk. She began to speak in a soft tremulous voice, explaining what her relationship with Ranma had been like. At first, it was hard to fit the words together as she stumbled over small embarrassments; however, under the sympathetic gaze of Tsujimura, Akane began to relax and tell her and Ranma's tale. She left out his curse and all the other curses, deciding at the last moment that Tsujimura would be unable to deal with those realities. Instead, she concentrated on their arranged marriage, their troubled relationship, the problem with finances and rivals, and some of their strange adventures. She didn't cover everything, but then, she wanted to leave the office sometime before she gave birth.  
Despite this, her tale was long and she found herself telling this grandfatherly man some of the deeply hidden doubts and fears she harboured about her own abilities and place in life. He listened with patience and understanding, never intruding on her when she started crying from some realization she made about her life or Ranma. For Akane, it was a cleansing, a way to come to grips with much of what had happened in the last year and a half. Although it didn't alleviate her problem or solve any part of her situation, there was an easing of tension from just unloading her burdens to another person. She rarely told anyone accept Mio her problems, and even her relationship with Mio had become strained in the last few months.   
Even while baring her burdens to Tsujimura-sensei, Akane was trying to validate her decision and make him agree with her. Each piece of her life was chosen by her subconscious to shed a more desperate light upon her predicament. Tsujimura, however, seemed unimpressed and uncaring about her predicament.  
"I don't see your problem, Akane-san," Tsujimura observed during one of Akane's extended silences. "I'll give you that you have had an interesting courtship, and one that was filled with uncertainties and troubles, but it is also obvious that this Ranma cares for you very deeply. Even you admitted that he has told you that he loves you several times in the past few weeks."  
Akane shook her head. "Iie, iie, iie. I know he loves me. I'd be blind if I didn't see that, but it's because he loves me that I can't have this baby."  
"That makes no sense."  
"Listen, please," Akane begged, vainly trying to deal with a concept that was almost beyond her grasp. She was trying to decipher Ranma on the spur of the moment, and some of the connections she was making were horrifying. "I didn't tell you how I got pregnant."  
"I'd assume it was in the normal way," Tsujimura said.  
"Yes, but that's not what I mean!" Akane snapped and then softened her voice. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to yell. It's just that I'm so stressed out."  
"That's perfectly alright, Akane-san. I understand. Now what were you going to say?"  
Akane took a deep breath and continued, "Ranma was fighting someone Happousai sent to kill him. He wasn't doing very well, and the guy knocked Ranma down. Ranma hit his head, and he couldn't move. That thing was going to kill Ranma. I didn't think. I just jumped at it, trying to stop it." Akane fell silent for a moment. "It knocked me away like I was some sort of bug. I don't remember what happened. It hit me and the next thing I know, Ranma is holding me and crying. He thought I was dead. I don't know how it happened, and I really don't care, but we...we made love.  
"But Ranma thought he raped me. At first, I didn't understand. I was so hurt when he ran away that I ignored him for a whole week. I would've continued to ignore him if he hadn't come to me. I didn't know he thought he had raped me, but...he-he," Akane began to cry as she remembered Ranma lying in his own blood. "Gods, he tried to kill himself to make everything right. If he hadn't done it in front of me..."   
"Akane," Tsujimura said comfortingly as he laid a hand on her shoulder, "it's not a good idea to dwell on possibilities. Maybe you're right. I don't understand you and Ranma, but I know what my job is, and I understand that you are confused and helpless right now. I, however, don't think Ranma would kill himself because you're pregnant."  
"I'm not worried about that. He still is so scared that he raped me or forced me. If he finds out he got me pregnant, I-I don't know what he'll do." Silence fell over the room like a heavy blanket. Neither Akane nor Tsujimura spoke for a long time. Akane felt Tsujimura's eyes on her, and she forced her eyes to stare blankly at her hands clutched together in her lap. The silence slowly became oppressive and uncomfortable, weighing down on Akane's shoulders. Unable to take it anymore, she spoke up, "He always takes everyone's problems as his own. He doesn't know when to say enough, especially with me. I can't give him this to deal with. I don't want him staying with me because it's honourable, or because he thinks he's responsible. I want him to love me."  
"Will he love you anymore if you have the abortion?" Tsujimura asked suddenly. "I don't think you know what you're committing yourself to, Akane-san. Despite what Toufu thinks, I don't think you should do this, but I won't stop you. All I ask is that you go home and think everything over. It's late now, and you're obviously tired." He placed a gentle hand on Akane's shoulder. "Go home, rest, and think. If you still think this is your only option come back tomorrow afternoon however, if you want to stick it out and wait for Ranma, I'll be happy to get you in a support group."  
"But..."  
"Enough, Tendou-san. I never let women make a decision on their first visit. Go home and sleep, maybe the right answer will come to you." With that, Tsujimura stood and motioned Akane toward the door. It took a moment for Akane to respond, but after a moment she stood up from her chair and bowed to Tsujimura-sensei before leaving the office and closing the door.  
Akane walked out of Tsujimura's office with a troubled heart. He had given her a lot to think about, but what other choice did she have? Although Tsujimura had asked to see her the next day, she knew what her answer would be. If Ranma was with her, things might have turned out differently, but she doubted it. But, what if he wanted her to have the baby?   
She shook her head. Ranma had too many things to think about at the moment. She had seen the strain on his face when he had visited her before leaving, Tsujimura-sensei had not. The strain from taking almost all of the pressure that should have been placed on her shoulders as well as his was slowly dragging him down with each moment he dealt with it. From the abuse leveled out by their fathers at breaking the engage- ment, the humiliation from their story about the attempted suicide, nearly dying to break his engagement with Shampoo, to now having to trek to China just to ensure Shampoo and Cologne left them alone, Akane was amazed he could even handle that much. It was beyond her to add one more problem to his list. When he returned, she knew even more problems would pop up like weeds in a garden, and that didn't include trying to make a relationship work between them. A child was simply out of the question at the moment, yet, even with those reasons, her choice felt wrong, so very wrong.  
  
-- 2 --   
  
Nabiki slipped out of her high heels and handed her light coat to the young hostess who was dressed in a tasteful, floral kimono. The young girl bowed in respect. Nabiki returned the greeting with a small bow of her own before stepping down into the dimly lit dinning area. Her eyes quickly adjusted to the light as she took in the surroundings, and, despite herself, she was impressed. The room had a dozen low tables spread around in a haphazard fashion, each with small bowl candles on them. A small bar was off to one side of the dining area. In the back of the room, she could see the red silk drape that covered the entrance to the main entertainment lounge. It was obviously an expensive restaurant, and that meant that Yoshioka Satoru was taking her advances seriously.  
Although she was a few minutes early, her host was already seated at a small table. Smoothing out her dark dress skirt and adjusting the dark, navy-blue blazer she was wearing, Nabiki smiled softly and made her way over to the table as she switched the folder she had brought to her non-dominate hand.  
As she approached, Yoshioka rose to his feet. He was a well proportioned man in his late forties who stood ten or so centimeters taller than Nabiki. He was wearing a casual business suit with a red silk handkerchief in the breast pocket. The cut of his suit accented his thin, straight frame handsomely. His face was long like his son's, but it had a more chiseled appearance to it, giving him the sculpted visage of strength and vigor. This was only accented by his dark hair, streaked by gray only at the temples, and the intense dark eyes that made him look both younger and sophisticated. His bearing was of a man who was comfortable in these situations. He waited patiently for Nabiki to approach, a casual smile on his lips.   
Nabiki sighed inwardly at his manner. It was obvious that, like their first meeting three days ago, this one was to be more casual than business. Business would be discussed, but it would take the back seat for the moment which suited Nabiki perfectly. It was not that she was feeling any abnormal trepidation about conducting business, but just that she was in unfamiliar waters here. She was used to dealing with high schoolers and sometimes men and women in their early twenties. Yoshioka Satoru, on the other hand, was an accomplished businessman who had made a more than decent name for himself in the largest real estate and property management firm in Tokyo.  
Bowing to Yoshioka, Nabiki felt a small trill of victory when he bowed back to her instead of inclining his head as he had last time. She had obviously impressed him at their first meeting, and this meant that they were going to get along very nicely. Of course, this dinner did not have the added confusion of Yoshioka's son Takezo either, but he had been required for the first meeting. No business realtionship could be built without the required go-between, so the first meeting was always a formality. This was the meeting that required her to interest Yoshioka, and as such, it was much more vital that she conduct herself with decorum and suave self-assurance.  
"I'm glad you could make it, Tendou-san," Yoshioka greeted Nabiki pleasantly. "Please, have a seat." He motioned for her to kneel at the low table. Nabiki complied as Yoshioka kneeled across from her. He took a sip from his glass, a martini Nabiki assumed from the olive floating in the glass. "Would you like something to drink?"  
Nabiki nodded as she placed the folder she had brought on the floor beside her. "What you are having will be satisfactory."   
Yoshioka motioned with his hand and a serving girl came over. He spoke to her in a quiet a voice. She bowed and backed away from the table. "This is much nicer, isn't it?" he asked her, motioning at the restaurant.   
"It's very nice." Nabiki answered politely. "I'm surprised you could arrange our meeting here. I had always assumed that it required a week's notice to get a table here."  
"In most cases, it does, but my company owns this place so we can entertain our clients and provide to their needs." He nodded toward the curtained-off section of the restaurant where the main entertainment room for large, non-business parties were normally held, and beyond that the smaller rooms for more direct entertainment.  
"I'm sure your clients are very appreciative," Nabiki acknowledged in a quiet voice as her drink arrived. Nabiki nodded in thanks and took a small sip. Though she was used to alcohol, having pilfered from her father's store for several years, she had never liked nor developed a taste for strong liquor, preferring wine and the occasional nip of sake. To her credit, she was able to sip with ease.  
"I was rather intrigued when my son said that a classmate of his wanted to speak to me. I was even more surprised when I meet you Tendou- san." Yoshioka finished his drink and put it on the edge of the table. A moment later it was taken by the unobtrusive serving girl. "I had been expecting someone a little older."  
"Is age really that important?" Nabiki asked. "I've seen old men make fools of themselves on the market while the younger generation excels."  
"Ah, but youth is impetuous. For every million they make, they lose the same, but with experience, a loss becomes a gain."  
"I would not say that youth is impetuous. They simply do not understand the worth of what they have, so they take risks. But your colleagues would rather let an opportunity slide because it is new and unknown, rather than taking a risk with their earnings."  
"And which are you, Tendou Nabiki?"  
"I don't like risk, Yoshioka-san. But a risk can be neutralized by placing your chips in the right way and can even be taken advantage of." Nabiki was getting tired of the verbal sparring. Yoshioka was playing the game well. He had set her at ease with his casual air, and then began to maneuver her around to subjects that would give away what she was willing to trade. Although she could do this, her general dealings with people were much more straight forward and so she was feeling much like Ranma would in a debating tournament. That is why his next words relieved her so much.  
"Do you think we can drop this facade?" he asked.  
"I think we could."  
"Good. I told you I was intrigued, and I am. I've been wondering what a young woman, such as yourself, could want from me, but I'm getting ahead of myself. Why don't we order? I'd like to get to know you. From what my son relates, you have a very richly deserved reputation."  
"I'm sure he was just being nice," Nabiki joked, giving him a tentative smile. Yoshioka returned the smile, his eyes lighting up in mirth. Almost sighing in relief, Nabiki opened her menu. She hadn't expected this. It was obvious they were going to discuss business tonight, and that meant she might get a good idea on where that business would go. The dinner was a much needed break for her. She was not used to dealing on a playing field where she held only a few advantages. What she wanted from him was not enough monetarily to interest him. He was from a large firm to which properties like the Nekohanten were not of interest. But his company's reputation was, and that was what she was trying to buy. What she needed to find out was where Yoshioka's motives lay. He obviously had an agenda, but what it was, she could not guess. Dinner, at the very least, would relax the barriers between them and it might even give her some information, especially if he kept drinking like he did.  
Dinner was a relaxed affair. They chatted amiably, talking about family and friends. Nabiki skirted around her relationship with Takezo, describing it as more of a distant friendship than a business relation. He took her explanation without question, and instead pressed on about her own family. She answered him truthfully, explaining what her family was like and what her father did. Nabiki could tell that he was impressed by the traditional way in which she had been raised, although she rarely showed any of her traditional upbringing.  
Nabiki listened as he related tales of his family life, and a few entertaining asides about his job, but talking about one's job, other than interesting encounters and anecdotes, over dinner was considered impolite by many and so was not emphasized nor encouraged by Nabiki. The dinner continued without a hitch, and after a few hours, they were back to drinks and were relaxing next to the table, chatting amiably.  
"I must admit, that you baffle me, Tendou-san, and that is what brought me here. I wonder what you could possibly offer me that would be worth my company's attention. Your family is not wealthy, although your home is probably prime real estate, and you have no steady source of income, nor do you seem to have a large portfolio. So what do you want?"   
It was obvious that Yoshioka was not going to hold back anything, and in this situation, Nabiki didn't have a position on which she could hold back much. She had to play with most of her cards on the table. She sipped at her martini and then straightened her blazer, smoothing out the wrinkles. "I don't have real estate to sell, well at least not yet. I have more in the way of an offer that might lead to a later understanding between us." The way Yoshioka leaned forward, told Nabiki he was interested at least.  
"There is a restaurant in Nerima called the Nekohanten. It will soon be going up for sale. It is in a very good location at the moment and will sell quickly and for a good price. I don't want that to happen if I can help it."  
"What does this have to do with me? You cannot impede the way of a sale, and if it is just a small restaurant, my company has no need of it."  
"Your company has prestige, and if a few members of your company were to observe and evaluate the property and then write it up as a very undesirable property, it would get in the way of the sale."  
"But again, this still will not help my company, and might even endanger it, especially if the property is in good shape. I'm sorry, it is too much of a risk, Tendou-san. Even you should realize that."  
"I know it is a risk, but a risk can be neutralized. I know the people who own this restaurant, and they must have it sold in less than a month. If they don't have a buyer, I will be able to purchase it off of them, or sell it for them at a very high percentage."  
Yoshioka was quiet for a moment. "It would work. My company would not have to deal with embarrassment or libel suits, since you would take all of the risk. That is, however, contingent on the fact that no one takes the time to do a second appraisal."  
"I very much doubt that will happen. The owners are selling it themselves, and as such will not bring in an outside appraiser. They are foreigners and don't understand much of the business practices of our people."  
"Okay, you have convinced me that this is safe enough. But what is in it for me? And more importantly, why are you doing this?"  
"I have my reasons. It has to do with my family honour, and that is all you need to know." Nabiki knew she sounded a little brusque, but it couldn't be helped. It was a touchy subject, and Yoshioka would back down from it.  
"I don't think I want to be involved in some elaborate scheme for revenge, and I know my company would never get involved in such a thing. I'm sorry, but I cannot help you."  
"This isn't for revenge," Nabiki said quietly. "I need the owner of this place to stay where she is until the month is out. I cannot have her wandering around. She is trying to get involved in some family business, and I don't want her to be able to leave Nerima until the last possible moment. I will make it worth your while."  
"How? No, before you answer that, let me see the property specs. You do have them don't you?" he asked, holding out his hand to Nabiki.  
Nabiki nodded and opened the folder. She pulled out a few pieces of paper with numbers on them and a diagram. "Here," she said, passing the documents into his hands, "this should be all you need to know." There was silence for a few minutes as Yoshioka looked over the figures and statistics for the Nekohanten. After a while of tapping his fingers and writing his own calculations down on the paper he put the pages down in front of him.  
"It is in a profitable area not to mention that it is a very profitable business. I figure about a twenty to thirty percent profit increase over the next five years and property increase of maybe two hundred percent over ten. As a profitable business, my company might look at it as a normal deal, but our fee would be more than what the property is worth. Going at ten thousand yen a square foot, the property is worth twelve million, with the building on top of that and the commercial zoning in a developing district, including the living space on the second floor, I'd say we could sell this for around forty-five million yen general market value, and maybe upwards of sixty if we sell it right. Given our fee of one-fifth the selling price, I'd say it would have to be sold at fifty-eight to sixty million for the owner to make a profit. Is that about right?"  
Nabiki nodded her head. She was actually hoping to acquire it for less, but that was not important to this conversation. "So what do you need to give the property a bad rating?"  
"I don't see why we should. The price is exorbitant for that small area of land. I'd assume that it'd be impossible to sell it at any rate. If you devalue the land, it is only going to make it go faster." Nabiki frowned. She didn't know a lot about real estate, but what he was saying sounded correct, and that put a crimp in her plans. "Let me see if I can explain. The value of land is a reflection of the land around it and the profits and taxes earned from those businesses around it. Even if you devalue a building within an area, the land itself is worth the investment. Someone would spend the twelve million to buy the land without batting an eyelash, and then he'd bulldoze the site and build a place for maybe thirty or so. Construction is cheaper than buying pre- built. Do you understand?"  
"Hai, so I want to pump up the price, inflate it as far as it can go so it would seem that the profit to be made over the next ten years is not worth the original investment."  
"Right, you have to make it too risky for a small businessman to buy it, or too risky for a landowner who would lease it. Most businessmen will pay up to a figure in the low fifties for land like this. Even if the owner sells it himself, the price will drop to maybe fifty or forty-eight. That is a reasonable price, and it will sell very fast."  
"But what if you're company supports it?"  
"I would say that the price would jump to the sixty million, and it will still go fast because of the prestige of my company. Either way, I don't think you're going to be able to do this."  
Nabiki could see that Yoshioka was truly sorry that he was unable to help, but she was determined to do this. She just had to make the deal attractive enough for him. "What would happen if your company went in and began to negotiate for the property? If you delayed the progress and offered a large price, too large for anyone to match, then maybe dropped out after a while ..."  
Yoshioka looked at Nabiki for a moment and then began to laugh. "My son said you were devious, but I did not expect anything like this. I would almost be tempted to do it if I could be guaranteed a profit for my company, and maybe something for myself."  
Nabiki allowed herself a moment of exultation. Reaching forward, she took another sip of her martini, and then put the rest of the folder on the table. "I think I can make it profitable. I don't want them leaving, and I will make it worth your while. If you entertain the sellers for a month and then back out, I will offer my services as a realtor, for a percentage of the sale of course."  
"But why should they trust you, Tendou-san?" Yoshioka asked. "You have already alluded to the fact that your families are not on good terms. The owner will obviously not trust you."   
"The owner does not consider me a threat. As far as she knows, she has already gotten what she wants, so my family is of no concern. My future brother-in-law on the other hand is not interested in her and is off spiking her wheel at this moment. If I can keep her busy, I'll keep her out of my brother-in-law's hair, and help him. I also get to cheat her." Nabiki's mind was whirling as ideas formed and collided in her head, quickly forming into a coherent plan. "I will introduce you to her, and that will get the negotiations going. Since I'm the go-between, when you pull out, or just don't finish the deal, I'll take over and sell the property to you, or to someone else if you don't want it."  
"My company will still not be interested in the property, and it will not give me much of a commission. I've not dealt with any deal less than a hundred million in several years. They are just not profitable." Yoshioka's voice and gleaming eyes, however, contradicted his statement. Nabiki could tell that the deal intrigued him, at least slightly.  
"But what if I sell the property to you below market cost?" Nabiki offered. "You get a larger profit, and I still get some money for selling it, and if you don't want it, I'll give you a percentage of the sale for your time, and I will also reduce this a little." Nabiki pushed across the manila folder. It was her last gamble. Inside was her calculations on Takezo's debts and losses over the last few years.   
Yoshioka was quiet and subdued as he read through the portfolio. He would sometimes make notes on a piece of paper he pulled out of his briefcase. It took him several minutes to go through all of the figures. Finally, he placed it on the table and, in a shaky voice, asked, "Are these figures accurate?"   
Nabiki nodded.  
"You have me in a bind, Tendou-san. This is a lot of money."  
"I don't have you in a bind. It is not your debt, Yoshioka-san. This is a debt your son incurred, and I will collect from him and not from you. All I'm offering is to reduce his debt in exchange for your cooperation and help. I will still pay you and compensate you for your work in helping me. Just consider this an added incentive."  
"An incentive no father would refuse. I don't have the money to pay this, and neither does my son. You could easily take us to court on this and get the money from me. It is all very legal. I'm very impressed with you Tendou Nabiki. I will consider your offer."  
"I would be most grateful," Nabiki responded, a trill of victory running down her spine. She had done it.  
Yoshioka stood up, and Nabiki followed him. He gave her a small bow to which Nabiki responded with a deeper one. Then Yoshioka turned to leave, but before he did, he glanced back at Nabiki and spoke. "Even if we don't conclude this. I would like to do business with you at some point in time. I see a very promising future for you, Tendou Nabiki. A very promising one indeed." With that said, he left Nabiki at the table, flustered and giddy from the compliment and the excitement of her first real accomplishment. Holding herself proudly, Nabiki gathered her papers and made her way from the table and to the entrance. Taking her coat from the same respectful hostess, Nabiki draped it over her shoulders and stepped outside. To her surprise, she saw Yoshioka waiting for her, a cab waiting beside the road.  
"Can I offer you a ride, Tendou-san?" he asked, opening the door for her.  
"Hai," Nabiki answered, "I would appreciate that." She smiled at him and slipped inside the cab as he followed her. Once seated, the cab driver pulled away, leaving the restaurant behind.   
  
-- 3 --   
  
Her eyes fluttering, Akane grimaced as a bright ray of sunlight penetrated her window to play across her face. Muttering, she rolled onto her side, burrowing into her pillow and sheets. More than anything she wanted to slip back into blissful slumber, but the penetrating trill of a bird put a crimp in that plan and cleanly sliced it in two as a second and then third bird began an angry, chattering quarrel back and forth with the first, unaware and uncaring of the irate and weary girl.  
Groaning, Akane pushed the sheets from her body, blinking her eyes to adjust to the bright light. It was these mornings when she detested her propensity for leaving the curtains open so she could fall asleep watching the stars through her open window; many times it was the only way she could get to sleep, and the previous night had been no exception.  
Thoughts of Ranma and doubts about the rightness of her decision had plagued her the night through. Morose and distant, she had stumbled through her nightly routine of practice and homework absentmindedly. The more she contemplated the entire situation, the less sure she became. She was terrified of making a decision that would tear Ranma away from her as if he were a kite ripped from a child's hands by an errant gust of wind. In the end, she had retreated to her room, searching for the comfort and blissful oblivion of sleep.  
It never came.  
Dreams came in its place. Horrid dreams. Vivid dreams. Hundreds of different dreams all with the same accusing horror within them. Only a few snatches, like fleeting shadows, remained in her mind. Ranma stood before her, disgust and anger burning in his eyes as a faint blue form hovered next to him. When she went to him he turned his back to her, and then she was in darkness, watching as the lights in her home went out one by one, the gate closing in her face. She screamed and shouted, begged to be let back in, but no one heard her, and soon the house disappeared as the last light was extinguished by the unseen resident. In the darkness she cried as voices whispered around her. "Now you know how we feel." "It's lonely." "Why can't we go to the light?" "Please, take us with you..." Screaming she woke to find herself entangled within her sheets, her pillow damp from her tears.   
Stealthily, the darkness came again, bearing Ranma's accusing face as he shredded her wedding kimono and disappeared into the dark. Over and over she suffered through the dreams, desperately seeking an avenue of escape and finding none but the awful ticking of her clock as she memorized the ceiling in an effort to fight off the horrors of slumber. Eventually she succumbed, but no rest was meted out to her that night.  
As her eyes slowly accustomed themselves to the bright light, Akane stumbled about her room, searching for her bath robe. On top of her lack of sleep, her mouth tasted horrid as saliva filled it at a horrendous rate. She felt light headed and almost dizzy. Attempting to brush it aside, she retrieved her bathrobe, but, as she touched the soft fabric, her stomach rebelled. Suddenly wide awake, Akane clamped her mouth shut and bolted from her room, slamming the door behind her as she bounded down the steps, racing her nausea to the bathroom.  
  
-- 4 --   
  
A slamming door brought Nabiki into a world of sharp pain and queasiness. Groaning, she wrapped the pillow around her head as the heavy thud of someone running down the stairs entered her room. The pillow didn't help. Each sound was amplified a thousand fold, beating mercilessly on her head as if it were a drum from the Noh theater. One more door was slammed shut as if to punctuate the horrendous morning with an insult, and then the beating subsided to a dull throbbing accompanied by an intense, white pain behind her right eye.  
Muttering curses at herself, she wrapped the pillow around her head even tighter and tried to shut out the morning. Hangovers are notorious for ensuring people suffer as long as possible, and Nabiki's was no exception. At that moment, a squirrel began chattering angrily outside of her window. This was followed by some bird squawking in indignation. Then, the sounds from the street began to filter into her room, cars, people, bicycles, and the assorted commotion of a bustling city. Kasumi's voice telling her to get up wasn't helping either.  
Grumbling, Nabiki tentatively opened one of her eyes and snapped it shut when she inadvertently encountered the glaring brightness in her room. A few moments later she tried again, this time, she was able to keep one eye open, slightly, while she pulled herself into a sitting position and began to massage her throbbing temples as she wondered how she had let Yoshioka talk her into getting drunk last night.  
Actually, he had not asked her to get drunk. As they were riding in the cab, he offered to take her to a tea house in order to relax and get to know each other a little better. Weighing the import of her answer, Nabiki decided it was safer in the long run to accept than to decline and possibly upset the delicate relationship they had already established during dinner.  
Although tea houses served tea, that was not their primary purpose in this day and age, nor had it ever been. In the days of the shogunate, the tea houses, along with the licensed districts, had been the gathering place of the three elite classes: the samurai, the noblemen, and the rich yet lower caste merchants. In the tea house, one was supposed to enjoy life, soaking up sake and art in equal proportions. Tea houses were, in many ways, the cultural centers of the past, holding the poets, artists, and musicians interest in the waning hours of the day while inspiring the encumbered to enjoy the sanctity of leisure. There the subtle play of conversation had been as greatly sought after as the drink and geisha. In the modern world, the tea house had come to play a similar role. It was the gathering place of businessmen who wished to cultivate their relationships with clients and prospective partners. Though no business was ever conducted while entertaining in such a manner, by drink and women, a businessman was branded impolite and inconsiderate if he did not take the extra step to make his client feel at home and comfortable within his presence.  
Yoshioka directed their cab toward a well-respected tea house on the outskirts of Tokyo proper. Though Nabiki was not particularly interested in drinking, she allowed herself to be persuaded into the tea house, the Floating Plum. It was a subdued establishment constructed in the traditional manner with tatami floors and private rooms exiting into a main hallway that receded back from the main room. As they walked in, Yoshioka was greeted by a group of businessmen in dark suits who were getting up from a low table and retreating toward the curtained off hallway. Joining the small group, Nabiki found herself seated in a cushion filled room, an incense stick burning in the corner beneath an inked wall scroll of a dwarfed evergreen growing beside a stream at the foot of the mountain. At least Nabiki thought that was what the scroll portrayed. It was only a few lines that gave an unfinished look to the entire work, but it did attract the eye and forced the observer to ponder and admire the work while trying to delve beneath the simplicity for the truth behind the form.  
As she was admiring the scroll, a young woman in a golden kimono patterend with ornamental dragons, her face powdered white to contrast her dark, blood red lips, entered the room with steaming cups of sake and a plate of rice balls wrapped in oak leaves. The group quickly fell to drinking and talking of the world in general. Though she knew none of them and was the youngest by at least ten years, the atmosphere was light and congenial, allowing her to easily slip into the small group as a member instead of the outsider she thought she'd be. It was not long before she was giddy from the free flowing alcohol, and the rest of the night began to pass into a blur of impressions and vague feelings of enjoyment, satisfaction, and acceptance.  
At the moment, she was wondering if the enjoyment of the evening was worth the pain she was suffering. If she was offered a choice in the matter, she would curl into a ball and attempt her hardest to die, but the headache, she decided sardonically, would more than likely raise her from the dead until she had suffered enough. Silently, she hoped that the next time Satoru-san took her drinking it wasn't as rambunctious.   
Frowning, Nabiki opened her eyes and grimaced. She didn't recall when she had started calling him by his given name, but it came naturally to her mind, and probably to her lips. It confused her. She shouldn't have gotten that close to him within two meetings, but then again, they might have clicked. Despite her headache, she smiled a whimsical smile. He was handsome and well-off. Maybe a little old...  
Nabiki shook her head angrily and then winced as pain shot through her temple and down into her body, as if it were pointing out how foolish her fantasies were. She was doing business with Yoshioka-san, she reminded herself, not looking for a friend or anything else. Then why had she spent most of the last evening watching him?   
She didn't want to think about it, and the hangover made it easy to avoid thinking of any type, except a search for some aspirin. Ginger- ly, she stood up, wavering on weak and unsteady legs like a newborn fawn before she made her way out of the room with light steps so as not to jar her head more than it needed to be.  
It took her a few minutes of agonizing Hell to get down the stairs and to the bathroom door. Not bothering to knock on the door, she walked in, desperate to find some aspirin. Her eyes automatically took in the bathroom area, a yellow bathrobe with a pig on its breast was draped over the hamper, the water was running in the sink, the door to the wash area was open, and Akane, her face pale and green, was leaning with her closed eyes against the wall next to the toilet.   
Walking to the sink, Nabiki pulled out an aspirin bottle and shook two into her hand. Looking at the small tablets and comparing them with her headache, she added four more and grabbed a glass of water. As the glass filled, her mind began to catalogue what she had observed, ticking off each item and trying to place a meaning to it. The headache didn't help matters. Whatever it was that was bothering her at the moment, she decided, probably wasn't important, but as she threw the aspirin into her mouth and began drowning them in water, she snapped her head to the side and almost choked on the water.   
Swallowing the liquid and coughing, Nabiki stared at Akane who was still leaning back against the wall by the toilet, her eyes closed, and her breathing shallow. "Akane?" Nabiki asked as she stepped towards her sister. There was no answer. As Nabiki drew closer, the distinctive, acidic odour of bile filed her nostrils, making her gag. Moving quickly, she flushed the toilet, and sank down next to her sister, shaking her slightly.   
Mumbling, Akane shook her head and batted at Nabiki's arms, but Nabiki refused to give up. "Hey, sis. Are you okay?"  
Akane's eyes snapped opened. "Huh?" she asked groggily.  
"I asked if you're okay? I came in here and you're next to the toilet and looks like you've been throwing up. Are you still sick?"  
For a moment, Nabiki saw a look of absolute terror cross her sister's face, and then she began to violently shake her head. "No! I'm not sick, well not really," she denied.   
"Then why are you throwing up?" Nabiki asked when Akane didn't offer anymore information. To Nabiki's inexperienced eye, Akane had all the normal indications of being if not sick then at least mildly put out. Her face was as white as a sheet and her eyes were dilated as she pulled in shallow breaths.  
"Why?" Akane asked, blinking. "Oh, that... Um...well, you see, oneechan...Toufu-sensei...well he gave me some pills that...well he wanted me to clean out my system, and he said I might get sick from them. I guess I did." Akane gave a sheepish grin, and struggled out from under her sister's skeptical gaze. "Listen, I need to get cleaned up. So if you don't mind."   
A little voice told Nabiki that Akane was hiding something, but Akane's voice was louder, and Nabiki winced in pain. Not wanting to deal with Akane and a headache, Nabiki simply filed the incident away in her mind for later consideration. Instead she decided to find out if Kasumi had some strong coffee or tea, or maybe a bucket of water she could put her head in for a few hours. Standing up, Nabiki made her way unsteadily out of the bathroom as Akane quickly closed the door to the bathing area and turned on the water.  
  
-- 5 --   
  
Pulling out a calculator, Nabiki typed in a few dozen numbers and then scratched the same combination on a piece of paper, checking the machine's answers. After only a few seconds, Nabiki nodded and made a mark at the end of the page and circled it with a red pen she was using to mark a page in the book open on the table next to her. "Nabiki?"   
"Hai, Kumi," Nabiki answered glancing across the table to Kumi who was scratching the tip of her nose with her reading glasses while she frowned at the open notebook before her. Around them the students of Furinkan were going about their lunch period, avoiding the small, outside table that Nabiki had acquisitioned for her business dealings.  
"Did we collect four or nine thousand from Sakura this week?"  
"Four," Nabiki answered, glancing back down at her record sheet. "Why?" she asked curiously.  
"Oh, I just wanted to be sure. Yoko's handwriting is pretty hard to read, and she rarely pays attention when she makes the Arabic numerals."  
Nabiki nodded her head. "That's why I want you to write all of the amounts in kanji. It might take longer, but fewer of the numbers look similar. A spilled glass of water can really screw up my books if you guys don't."  
"Hai, boss," Kumi mumbled and then went back to work, the scratch- ing of pencils the only sound between them as they tallied up the week's totals. After a time, Nabiki lifted her head and glanced over at Kumi, who was staring at her notebook with eyes narrowed in anger and frust- ration. She was about to ask Kumi what the problem was when a shadow feel across the table.  
"Tendou Nabiki," the owner of the shadow asked, his voice's confi- dence only a shell for the slight tremor of nervousness Nabiki heard beneath it. Kumi glanced up at the voice, but quickly dropped her eyes as she saw the predatory glint and disarming smile that Nabiki used in most of her dealings.  
Nabiki, however, didn't respond to the supplicant and continued to write figures down in her notebook, checking her calculator every so often just to be sure. "Nabiki?" The voice was much less sure of itself this time, and Nabiki lifted her pencil to chew on it, casually turning her head to look around. When she saw the owner of the voice, her face lit up in mock surprise.  
"Takezo-kun!" she exclaimed. "Gomen, I didn't even hear you. Maybe you should speak up and be more assertive."  
Yoshioka Takezo frowned at Nabiki's words, both at the insult and the tone of voice. Although he desired more than anything to retaliate, his father had warned him to be especially polite to Nabiki-san when he delivered the letter. This was complicated by Takezo's own weak nature. He was a posturer. Against the school nobodies, he was confident and as arrogant as Kunou Tatewaki, but next to Nabiki he was a cowering, pathe- tic excuse for a human, all the more reason for him to dislike Nabiki. Being his father's delivery-boy to the girl was not helping either. "I brought a letter for you," he said and held out the envelope with his family seal on it.  
Taking the envelope, Nabiki examined it and then smiled at Takezo. "Arigato," she said and turned back to her work.  
"Aren't you going to open it and give me an answer?" a flustered Takezo asked.  
"I don't think this is any of your business, Takezo-kun. I asked you to introduce me to your father, you did that, and I'm very thankful for your help. This," Nabiki pointed at the envelope, "is between your father and myself, and it has nothing to do with you. You can go now." Nabiki waved her hand and returned to her work.  
Grumbling Takezo backed away, his brow knitted in anger. He really detested Tendou Nabiki.  
"Oh, Takezo," Nabiki called out in a voice dripping honey. "Don't forget to pay up for this month by tomorrow. You wouldn't want to be late now, would you?"  
Ignoring the comment, Takezo stormed away, looking for people who would treat him with respect. As he left hearing range, Kumi began to giggle uncontrollably. "What's the matter with you?" Nabiki asked.  
"I just love it when the high and mighty Yoshioka Takezo is made a fool of. I hate him. I absolutely detest his wretched, ecchi guts."   
"What'd he do to you?" Nabiki asked curiously.  
"He asked me out once," Kumi answered as if it were the most obvious reason, but seeing Nabiki's skeptical gaze, she added, "When I was a freshman, he was one of the popular guys, and he asked me out. I though it'd be nice. He took me to a nice restaurant and then dancing. Of course after that he tried to feel me up and get me into bed." Kumi shuddered. "Ecchi bastard. He deserves everything you give him, Nabiki."  
"So that's why you love to collect the money from him," Nabiki smiled. "Why don't you collect his debt tomorrow? And wear something daring." Both girls broke into laughter, and began making plans to humiliate Takezo. Their amusement, however, could only last so long before they were forced to return to their work.  
Instead of her accounting, Nabiki turned her attention to the letter. It was thick paper with the Yoshioka crest on it and her full name written in the upper corner. Opening it with her thumb nail. Nabiki withdrew the letter and read it. Soon she was smiling. Yoshioka had made a decision and he wanted to meet her Saturday evening for dinner to give her the answer. Folding the letter back up, Nabiki tapped it against her cheek for a moment before going back to work. She had a lot of prepara- tions to make before the next evening's festivities.  
  
-- 6 --   
  
"Tendou-san?"   
Akane blinked, glancing up from studying her hands which were clasped in her lap. In front of her a young woman in a pale blouse with white pants was smiling cheerfully. "Huh?" Akane responded.  
"Tsujimura-sensei is ready for you." The young nurse motioned toward the door that led to the rear of the clinic. Akane nodded her head and left her seat, weaving through the chairs in the waiting room. Although it was a large waiting room, there were only a few women there, most sitting by themselves. Only one had a man sitting next to her, holding her hand. A flicker of regret and loneliness passed through Akane's heart. She wanted Ranma with her. No, it didn't even need to be him, just someone to stand beside her and give the strength she desperately needed.  
Although she had approached a few of her friends at school, fully intending to talk with them and try and get some support, her courage had disappeared at the last moment. Instead, she silently sat beside them as they ate outside beneath the dark, cloud-filled sky that had hung over Nerima since that morning. It mirrored her mood. The bright morning she had awoken to had slowly dissapated into gloom as she came to realize what the day held for her.  
The combined depression of mood and weather had prompted her to consider going to at least Mio, but her own uncertainty and the shame that could be gained from disclosing such a fact was too much of a deterrent. From Mio, she knew there would be no condemnation, no change in status, but from the others it was different. Akane, though their friend, had been so long inside the rumour mill and envied for the attentions she received from the opposite sex that there was a deep resentment towards her. Akane always felt it when she was among them. It wasn't obvious, they never forced her from the group, but Akane knew she was the outsider who was included because she was Akane.  
This attitude made her faults, quirks, and adventures more in the public eye than many high-level politicians. The Great Tendou Akane was constantly criticized, picked apart, and examined by the student popula- tion that her every word almost became a topic of gossip. Not even Ranma was put through the grinder that Akane was forced to undergo each day. He was a male, and as such, he was nearly above the gossip of the high schools. More was tolerated from him. He was supposed to be the macho guy, the Casanova that darted from one girl to the other like a beauti- ful hummingbird does from blossom to blossom, sampling each in its turn.   
Akane, on the other hand, was his fiancee, and being the tightly established fact among the school, it was considered that she was part of Ranma's property and therefore that whatever she did was reflected upon him. Since Ranma was above the high schoolers, an outsider who none could possibly comprehend or bring to their level, Akane became the measuring stick to gauge Ranma. Her actions reflected on who Ranma was and, in many more matters, on how her family was seen by the world. Because of this, she walked a narrow tight-rope, trying to do her best to fit into a society that she had never wanted to be a part of.  
At times she lost her temper and sent it against Ranma and Kunou, but those two were outside the norm of Furinkan. Any action she did against them, unless it was affection with Ranma, was typically ignored. On the contrary-side of the coin, her actions against Raiko had lowered her in the eyes of the student body. Even though Raiko had provoked it, there was no possible outcome in which Akane might have won. By engaging the battle through the avenue she had used, Raiko had won the moment she had opened her mouth. Akane had reacted because she had been shamed in front of her friends and the student body. She had been forced to count her blessings and salvage as much face as she could. If Akane had not reacted, she would have been thought less of, yet, when she did react, she still lost face because of her preeminence within Furinkan's walls. It was a no win situation, and it was the same with her pregnancy.   
If Ranma had not broken the engagement, she could have survived the storm that would come from her revealed pregnancy. It didn't really matter, half of Furinkan thought that she was sleeping with Ranma despite their bickering, and the other half thought Ranma had slept with every one of his fiancees, including her, several times. Despite how much the engagement had infuriated her, it had been a protective umbrella that allowed her more social freedom in some areas. Without that umbrella, her pregnancy would make her seem like a slut who had given herself to a man only to have him leave her for another woman. It sullied her honour and her family's honour. It was those facts that she rationalized the secrecy of her pregnancy on.   
It would be so much easier, she mused as her steps carried her down the hall, if Ranma hadn't broken the engagement, if he hadn't tried to fight Cologne, if he were still here beside...  
"Shut up!" The man's angry voice halted Akane in the hall, silencing her regrets.  
"But..."   
"I don't want to hear it!" The man shouted, drowning out the woman's voice. "I trusted you. I gave you everything, and I had to _follow_ you here to find this out. To find out that you're pregnant. Do you hate me that much?" Akane cringed from the rage in the man's voice, the contempt and disgust that dripped from each of his words as if they were sludge flowing from a sewer pipe. She wanted to scurry down the hall, away from that voice, but for a moment Ranma was standing before her eyes, a sad and almost accusing expression on his face. It was the same Ranma from her dream, and the image held her firmly in place next to the slightly ajar door.  
"Is this what my love means to you?"  
"What was I supposed to do?" the woman shot back accusingly. "You were barely talking to me. You avoided me."  
"That was because every time I asked you what was wrong, you made up some excuse and changed the subject or just ignored me. What was I supposed to think! I thought you wanted nothing to do with me!"  
"It's not my fault!"  
"Yes it is," the man stated gravely.  
"No! You're the one who told me you weren't ready to have kids. That you weren't ready to take on responsibility."  
"So that makes this right? Because I told you I wasn't ready to start planning for a family, you decide to ignore my rights in this entire thing? That is my child too, and I think I have a say in whether you abort it or not!"   
"I...I," the woman stammered. Akane could hear the tears in her voice, the terrible truth she had just endured.  
"You didn't think. You never think. You're so centered on yourself that you forget there are other people who care about you. Did you honestly think I'd leave you if you were pregnant?" Akane heard a hint of love in the man's voice, but it was minuscule compared to the anger that still drove his words. "I love you, I always have, and I always will. I told you I'd never leave you. You're my life, but..."  
The words were so similar that Akane couldn't help but hear Ranma's voice in her ears. "I'll crawl back and die in your arms then. Besides, no one can beat me in a fair fight. No matter what, Akane. I'm coming back. How could I not? You're all I have now." Tears began to form on her cheeks.  
"...if you do this." The love was gone from his voice. The anger and contempt had returned in full force, slamming into Akane as harshly as they were into the man's girlfriend. There was silence. It was awful, a few seconds or an hour, Akane knew not which, but she knew the man was deciding the rest of his life with the next statement. "I was hoping to have a family with you, to marry you. Now I don't know. I don't know if I can still love you, but if you do this...if you kill my child, I'll hate you for the rest of my life!"  
For a moment, it sounded as if Ranma had spoken, but Akane shook her head, dispelling the voice. Instead, she pressed her hands over her ears in a vain attempt to block out the woman's frantic, sobbing pleas and began to hurry down the hall away from the open door. The man's voice, however, continued to echo in her ears, slowly dying down to an insistent whisper that pushed her onward as if a hundred hands were forcing her down the hall.   
It was just that man, she told herself. Ranma wasn't like that. She knew him. She knew him better than anyone. Never in a hundred lifetimes would he desire her pregnancy. Support it, yes, but desire it, never. Maybe it was wrong to leave him in the dark, but he was gone. There was nothing else to do.   
Akane's steps carried her quickly around the corner of the hall and down the short length to Tsujimura's office. At each step, she repeated all the threads she had slowly weaved into a obscuring cloak around herself, vainly trying to rebuild the confidence that had been lost. As she pushed open the door to Tsujimura-sensei's office though, a part of her was screaming at her to run away and never return. Burying the voice, she walked into the office, closing the door part way behind her.  
"Konban wa, Akane-san," Tsujimura greeted her in his soft voice. "I see you've made your decision." The statement was almost a sigh of regret, but Akane missed it as she nervously walked up to the mahogany desk and took one of the two light-gray, cushioned chairs in front of it. As she sat down, Akane saw a few papers on the edge of Tsujimura's desk. With an unsteady hand, she picked up one of them.  
"They are release forms and information about your insurance and who I should call in case something goes wrong," Tsujimura explained without being asked.   
Nodding, Akane reached for a pen, but instead of signing the release form and authorization for the operation, she picked up the insurance form and began to fill it out. It took her a few minutes to fill out the information Nabiki had forced her to memorize several years ago. Her mind was detached from the work, trying to ignore everything in the office, from the ticking clock to the doctor who was watching her with hooded eyes.  
As she reached for the Emergency Notification Form, Tsujimura spoke up again. "I've set aside a time for the operation. It's best to get this over with quickly. It leaves you less time to dwell on it and maybe hurt yourself emotionally."  
"When?" Akane asked in a small voice.   
"Monday, April 14. That is three days from now. I'll need you here around noon. Can you get out of school?"  
Akane nodded her head, trying to concentrate on the words instead of what she was doing. Signing her name at the bottom of the Notifica- tion Form, she reached for the Authorization Form and picked it up. Her eyes scanned over the form as her hands wrote down the requested information in barely legible characters that resembled Ranma's more than her own. She wrote quickly, trying to do it before her courage failed, but at one line her eyes caught and the pen dropped from her nerveless fingers.  
"Is something wrong, Tendou-san?" Tsujimura asked when Akane did not move to pick up the fallen pen. Akane didn't hear him, she was looking at the words on the form.  
  
Do you know who the father is? __Hai __Iie  
If so, what is his name:____________________  
Does he know of the pregnancy? __Hai __Iie  
  
"I hate you!" The man's voice suddenly pushed aside the door she had closed it behind, but it wasn't his voice. "I hate you, Akane! I loved you, and you do this!" Akane physically cringed from Ranma's voice as tears began to roll down her cheek and fall onto the form she held in her hands, blurring the ink of her name. "If you do this, I'll always hate you!"   
Though the words were only in her imagination, they crumbled the veil of facts and insecurities she had weaved within her mind, ripped them apart as if they were spider webs beneath the house keeper's broom. She was trembling as the last vestiges of her confidence were torn away, like the veil of a Muslim woman, so she was left standing naked before her feelings, and the certainty of the future if she finished her trek and signed the form. Maybe she could keep it a secret. Maybe Ranma would never find out. But if...if he did. If he was told, or she let something slip, he would hate her as certainly as that man hated his girlfriend. By doing this, she would have betrayed their love and his trust on the deepest level. She would hear those words on Ranma's lips, and even if he forgave her, he would never love her the same way. "He won't love me," Akane whispered. "He'll hate me."  
"Nani?" Tsujimura-sensei asked, confused at the tearful Akane who was shaking her head as she stared at the Authorization form.  
"I-I-I can't" she wailed as she crumpled the form into a ball and let it fall from her trembling hands. "He'll hate me. He'll hate me!" With a low cry she stumbled from the chair, knocking it over backwards as she turned to the door and yanked it open. With tears streaming down her face, she stumbled blindly down the hall and out into the waiting room.  
Her decision had been made for her. She couldn't face Ranma and have him find out. The price of that was too high for her to pay. She had lost too much in her life to chance throwing Ranma away, the one person she would eagerly give her own life for, the only person she had given her heart to.  
Ignoring the cries of the startled nurse, she ran out the front door and began to make her way home, her right arm clutched protectively over her abdomen. Fervently, she hoped Ranma's return would be a speedy one. She didn't want to be alone that long.   
Behind her Tsujimura had a worried expression on his face, but a happy glint in his eye. He had expected her to go through with the operation. She had convinced herself so thoroughly of its rightness when he had spoken to her the first time that this sudden turn about was confusing. It was not the fact that she had decided to keep the child. From the beginning he had detected a certain doubt in her and from Toufu-sensei, and so his initial meeting with her had been much more antagonistic than his usual consultations. When she had left, he had pegged her as lost, but the suddenness and violence of her change of heart mystified him.   
Glancing up, he saw that she was already gone, and the phone was ringing on his desk. The receptionist's line blinked demandingly at him, telling him that Tendou Akane had left the building. Ignoring the phone, he pulled out a pad of paper and jotted down a reminder to check up on Akane. More than anything, she would need help at this point in her life, and he was going to make sure she got it.  
Outside, he heard a distant rumble of thunder and then rain began to lash his windows as the threatening sky that had hung above Nerima finally gave into the inevitable and deluged its cargo onto the waiting streets and houses.  
  
-- 7 --   
  
Kasumi sighed as she sank onto the couch in the living area. In the other room her father and Saotome-ojisan were playing a quiet game of go. It was a peaceful night in which she could relax for a few hours and enjoy herself. Dinner had been easy to clean up. Without Ranma, there was less need for food, but with Nabiki and Akane both gone, it had cut down on the clean up for Kasumi. Most of the leftover food had been stored in the fridge, and now she had time for herself to enjoy one of the books she had borrowed from Toufu-sensei the previous week.   
Smiling at the rare silence, Kasumi opened the book and began to read. A flash of lightning suddenly illuminated the window, followed quickly by a clap of thunder that startled her. Glancing up from her book she saw a drenching downpour lashing the windows of the house. Frowning she placed her book down and began to check the house, making sure all the shutters and windows were latched tightly closed. A little caution usually saved her hours of extra work.  
As she walked into Akane's darkened room, Kasumi frowned. Over the years, Kasumi had grown used to the fact the Nabiki rarely called or told anyone where she was going. Akane, on the other hand, very rarely went somewhere without informing someone. It was unusual behaviour for Akane. Actually, when Kasumi thought about it, Akane had been acting strangely over the past few days. She had been withdrawn and morose most of the time.   
Closing the window, Kasumi mused over Akane's behaviour. It was difficult to pin point an exact time when she had noticed a change. The last few weeks had drastically changed Akane, but recently there was a difference. Akane had withdrawn from the family, not emotionally, but just moved herself outside the close circle as if she were afraid of something. The change had been a drastic one too. Kasumi remembered the morning Ranma had left. Akane had come down to the table nearly glowing withhappiness. Kasumi assumed that the happiness had been because Ranma had spoken with her, but by that evening, Akane was crying again. Kasumi recalled the episode with P-chan vividly. Did all this have something to do with Ranma? She doubted it, but what other reason was there?  
Lost in thought, Kasumi sank onto Akane's bed. Although she was an accomplished housekeeper, she still possessed her own inadequacies. Cooking and cleaning required no thought and just a loving attention to detail, but anything beyond that became a struggle. Her family's problems were complex and she tried to understand everyone, but so often she could only give an encouraging word and hope the situation unraveled itself. Her father was easy to fathom. He just needed the support and love of his family. He needed Genma-ojisan's friendship.   
Nabiki's problems, though a constant source of worry and regret for Kasumi, were beyond her. Nabiki had locked herself away from the family a long time before the arrival of Ranma. In many ways, Ranma's arrival had unbalanced the cool aloofness that Nabiki had maintained.  
It was seemingly the opposite with Akane. The unbalance of Ranma's presence had sent her into herself, trying to deflect him from ruining her stable reality. As she watched Akane make mistakes and continue to lose her self-confidence, Kasumi had desired to go to her and help her, but Akane was unwilling to talk about her problems. The inability of her sister to talk hurt Kasumi. Before, they had been close. Kasumi remem- bered times when Akane would come to her looking for advice or just someone to talk to.   
Sighing in frustration, Kasumi let her eyes wander Akane's room. The room had changed very little in the years since Akane had taken it as her own. The posters, pictures, and little curios in it had changed as Akane matured, but it was the same furniture that their departed mother had chosen so carefully when Akane was six. Kasumi frowned. Maybe that was one of the problems. Kasumi had redecorated her own room several times since their mother's death, fitting it to her tastes. Nabiki's had changed slowly until it was a utilitarian space where she could work undisturbed, yet Akane had adamantly remained rooted in the past, retreating to her room whenever she was troubled.  
In her own peculiar way, Kasumi understood the comfort of the past. She had refused to change many of the rooms her mother had put together when she was alive, but the house was always supposed to reflect the family, and their mother had known the family. Their own rooms reflected themselves, all except Akane. Hers was just a sanctuary where she escaped, her weights and the few pictures the only statement of who she was.  
She wished that Akane would open up to her. They still talked and Akane sometimes asked her help, but it was so different now. After their mother had died, Akane had always come to Kasumi for help. Whether it was schoolwork or problems at school, Kasumi had replaced the mother Akane had loved more than anyone else in the world. When Akane came to her, she tried to be everything that Akane needed, but it always felt forced and empty, as if she were a doll Akane was using to escape her fears. Over the years their closeness eroded. Maybe because Akane realized that Kasumi herself was unable to help her, or maybe because she saw herself supplanting the lost mother. Kasumi wished she knew which, but it was so hard to fathom Akane.  
She was so much like Ranma.   
That was one of the reasons she had foisted Akane off on Ranma when 'she' had walked into their lives. Ever since Akane had entered high school, she had become more distant and withdrawn from her family, finding solace in her martial arts training and the few friends she managed to make. In Ranma, Kasumi saw a chance for Akane. Here was a boy who obviously held as many problems as Akane, if not more. Though she was not the greatest nurturer, she knew that it would be easier for Akane to unload to a person who could not lord over her. She needed an equal to make a connection with, and maybe they would open up to each other and find solace from understanding the other's failings.   
At first she had thought it had not worked, but as time progressed she saw the unconscious closeness that developed of its own accord. Though it rarely happened, Kasumi knew that Akane and Ranma opened up to each other at times. Their bickering was just a mask of that vulnera- bility they felt within each other's presence. Maybe Ranma's honour had played a part in keeping him to Akane, but it was only a part. All the time they spent together and fighting for and with each other let clues slip to the other. As time passed, it was simply impossible for them to be apart. They needed each other as much as they needed the breath within their lungs and the blood pumping in their veins.   
To put it simply, they had ruined each other for any other person. Like ying and yang, they matched perfectly together to form a harmony of spirit, yet when apart each division became a garish mistake. Ranma's confidence and strength bolstered Akane. Akane's open heart and shy ways pulled Ranma's heart open. And maybe, that was what was happening to Akane, Kasumi guessed. She must feel like the traveler who knows they have forgotten something, but can never place his finger on what was misplaced.   
Kasumi had been intending to help Akane, but she had been putting it off because of her sister's distance. The realization about the reason for that distance, however, gave her a renewed determination to help her sister. With Ranma gone, Akane needed a direction, and she had to provide that direction. Whether it was simply making her sister more confident by working on her domestic skills or something else, it didn't matter in the long run.   
Like figuring out a difficult puzzle, Kasumi felt a deep sense of accomplishment. She was about to leave Akane's bed when the door swung inward. Startled, Kasumi turned to face the door. "Oh my," she breathed in horror as she saw her younger sister standing there.  
Akane looked miserable. She was soaked, water dripping from her clothes to pool on the floor. Her hair was plastered to her face, and her eyes were swollen, red, and haunted. She stood still for a moment, rocking on her feet as she hugged herself across her abdomen. For a moment all was silent and then she took a step forward. Her step was unsteady and she leaned against the door instead of actually entering the room.   
As she saw this, the shock drained from Kasumi's system like it was sand clutched in her hand. Pushing herself from the bed, she quickly moved to Akane's side. "Akane-chan, are you okay?" she asked unable to think of anything significant to say, but eventually her mind kicked in. "What happened?"  
Akane shook her head as Kasumi gently draped an arm about Akane's shoulders and directed her toward the bed. Her clothing and skin were cold to the touch. Kasumi could feel her sister shivering slightly. She must've been out in the storm since it started.   
"Let's get you out of these clothes." Without waiting for an answer, Kasumi began to strip the wet school uniform from Akane and then her underwear. Grabbing the quilt from Akane's bed, Kasumi wrapped her sister in it and quickly left to look for a towel. During the entire episode, Akane didn't move, except to mumble something unintelligible when the quilt was wrapped around her.  
Kasumi hurried out into the hall and took three quick steps to the upstairs linen closet. Opening it she found the beach towels and grabbed one of the large, softer ones. Shaking it open, she walked back to the room, and up yo her sister. Akane was shaking her head as Kasumi walked up, whispering under her breath. As Kasumi removed the quilt and began to towel down Akane's body, rubbing her skin to bring warmth back into the chilled girl, she heard snatches of it.   
"He hates me...can't do it...why'd he leave...Ranma...Okaasan... please don't hate me." The words made no sense to Kasumi, so she tried to ignore them and concentrated on Akane. A low flush had crept into the girl's cheeks under her older sister's administrations, and Kasumi could feel heat radiating from her body.   
Dropping the towel, Kasumi, wrapped Akane in the quilt and quickly went to her dresser and pulled out the warm, yellow pajamas Akane always wore in the winter. Dressing her sister in them, Kasumi directed Akane to get under the covers of her bed. Akane complied, thought was still mumbling, but Kasumi could no longer understand the low, barely recog- nizable words. Instead she picked up the wet clothes and towel and left the room. Heading downstairs, she threw the clothes into the laundry room and headed for the kitchen. Luckily there was a tea kettle with hot water in it on the stove. Her father had probably made tea.   
Fixing some herbal tea, Kasumi put in a relaxant that would put Akane to sleep and a medicine Toufu-sensei had given her that helped ward off fevers, whichshe could easily catch at the moment.  
Taking the tea, Kasumi headed back upstairs. Akane was still in her bed, but she was tossing in turning. Moving to the bed, Kasumi saw her sister's eyes snap open. They were slightly feverish and stared at nothing as she called out to her mother. Putting the tea aside, Kasumi enfolded Akane in her arms and began to gently rock her, humming the soft tune their mother had sung to them when they were little. As she did this, Akane began to cry in her arms, and Kasumi couldn't help her tears as she listened to the heart-ache in her younger sister's voice as she called out to someone in a garbled voice.  
  
-- 8 --   
  
The world was fuzzy, a light blur in front of her eyes. She could hear her own choking sobs in her ears, but nothing else. Something was wrapped about her, warming her body yet strangling her limbs at the same time. Someone was holding her, protecting her within the warm circle of arms and body. The presence and even smell was familiar, but she was so tired, so weary from constantly fighting and dealing with reality that she let the darkness slip over her. She shuddered as it enfolded her, taking her down. Then something was with her, someone, their disapproval radiating around her.  
"But I didn't do it," she tried to explain, before the darkness parted again and the disapproval disappeared. "Why can't I tell him?" she wailed in her comforter's arms. There was no answer but the gentle caress on her forehead. "I tried. He hates me. He hates me!"   
She began to cry at this realization. She didn't know how she knew he hated her, but he did. Loneliness overwhelmed her, dragging her back down as she continued to cry. This time there was no disapproval, just a mild curiosity, then a frown in the darkness when she cried out to the owner. Even if the darkness didn't disapprove of her, it still didn't love her. Then it began to fade, retreating, leaving her in an empty void. "Please, don't leave," she begged, but it was gone, and she was back in the fuzzy world, crying again.   
"I can't do it. He won't let me. He'll hate me if I do it. I need him. Please come back," she cried as the darkness consumed her. She wasn't alone this time, but it wasn't him. Whoever they were, they were watching her, protecting her. She felt safe and loved as if she was back within her mother's arms. It wasn't enough, though. She needed him, and then she saw the brief flash of dark hair and blue eyes. She tried to reach for him, but he disappeared, and she was pulled back into the hazy world.  
"He won't listen! I promise I won't do it. I promise! Just come back to me." She tried to pour her heart out, but it came in choked sobs and small coughs. The person holding her, gently rocked her, told her it was okay. Eventually the darkness came again, her voice whispering, "I promise. I love you," as oblivion took her.  
He was waiting, a smile on his face, the normal jocular twinkle in his eye as he held out his hand for her. "I've been waiting," he said softly. "We've so much to talk about." Taking his hand, dream slipped into fantasy and her body gave itself to slumber.  
  
-- 9 --   
  
In Kasumi's arms, Akane settled and her breathing became easier as she slipped into a sleep Kasumi hoped would be peaceful. Having listened to Akane cry and beg for the last hour and a half, she knew she would not get any sleep this night. Something was happening to her sister and it hurt Kasumi that Akane wouldn't tell her. She just wanted Akane to be safe, and it was painfully apparent that the child was suffering greatly. She promised herself that she would find out what was bothering her sister and be there for her.  
And so Kasumi tightened her arms about her sister and held her as the night deepened, protecting her like the mother she had always wanted to be for her family. A flash of lightning lit up the tree outside of Akane's window. It was followed closely by a crack of thunder that sounded like a whip in the silent room.  
  
-- 10 --   
  
A deafening crack of thunder brought Shampoo's head up from the table she was idly tracing her finger over. Outside she could see the rain lashing through the cones of light the emanated from the streets lamps. For a moment, she saw a triple fork of lightning arc across the sky, illuminating the pregnant clouds that loomed above Nerima and gave birth to the drenching rains.  
Turning her face away, she watched the flickering shadows of the Nekohaten's dining room. As a child, she had loved to listen to the thunder storms that came west out of the Bayan Kara Mountains and swept down onto the plateau where the Thirteen Clans of the Joketsuzoku Tribe made there home. Her mother had always held her as they watched the lightning lash the land, and when the hot, dry air from the distant Alashan and Gobi deserts had reached the plateau and mixed to send the thin funnels of tornadoes to touch the ground.   
The terrifying spectacle had always sent her heart racing in her breast as fear-induced adrenaline rushed through her body. She had desired to run out into the storm, into the lashing rain and let the wind whip around her and teach her how to fly so she could touch the very heavens as she showed the gods how brave she was. But that was before her mother's death. Before that one storm in which she had made her dream a terrifying reality.   
Now they only brought sadness, the occasional tear, but mostly the deep regret and painful numbness she felt now. Angrily she shook her head. As her grandmother told her, the past was to learn from, never to dwell on. If she dwelt on the past, Shampoo knew that she'd only become like her father, broken and weak. Her mother's spirit would find no rest if she became weak. She had wanted her to be the champion of not only the Clan but the Tribe. She was to be an Amazon whose life would be glorified in the Book of the Ancestors, but then there was Ranma. An errant breeze that toppled her dreams, forcing her to pursue him to Japan and possibly even further.  
Her pursuit of Ranma had gone on too long for her. Her great- grandmother, however, forced the issue, and so Shampoo dutifully submitted to the Matriarch's will. Despite the compelling reason of being a Matriarch, Shampoo considered that only a small part of the whole that kept her loyal to Cologne. Cologne was Shampoo's teacher, mentor, and her only family left. It was true her father was still alive, but he had returned to China months ago, telling his own daughter that he believed she was wasting her life trying to uproot a mountain.   
"Let him go, Shampoo, or just kill him," her father advised as he sat in her room, his bags packed and lying by his side. "Cologne is old, she is trying to hold onto a power and tradition that is slowly disap- pearing. I can't condemn you for doing this. Your mother would have done the same, but you let it linger and play Cologne's games. You will only bring yourself to grief if you continue this way."  
None of his speech had mattered to her. Her father had never taken an active role in her life. He had allowed Cologne to raise his daughter, and sunk into his drinking and other vices while she was trained for her future position. She was groomed by Cologne in the ways of the Ancient Amazons. She became the best and received affection and praise for her hard work. From this she had grown to love her hard- bitten great-grandmother. Her great-grandmother's disapproval had always been the worst punishment inflicted upon her as a child, and it remained so as a teenager. Because of that, she followed Cologne's word with never diminishing zeal. She became the bubbly girl that threw herself at Ranma for Cologne's sake. She delved into herbs and tricks to win her Ranma's heart. Everything her great-grandmother suggested she tried. Even if she had despised Ranma, she would have followed Cologne's wishes, but since she loved him it was even easier to trust and believe her great-grandmother. But now she was no longer certain.  
Her love for Ranma had somehow supplanted that desire to please Cologne. Though she didn't wish to believe it, she understood the motivation behind Cologne's actions. She was trying to preserve the honour of the Tribe, but Shampoo only wanted to preserve her and the Tribe's precious honour by winning Ranma's heart and becoming his wife.  
She was on the verge of becoming his wife. He had clearly promised to uphold the oaths his father and Tendou Akane and her father had sworn to bring him back from Boukyaku. Shuddering at the thought, Shampoo tried to purge it from her memory but it would not disappear. Even she knew that the Judgement of Boukyaku should have never been placed on Ranma. Not only was it reserved for Amazons, the punishment for misusing it was the Judgement itself. In her desperate rush ro teach Ranma a lesson, Cologne had overstepped her boundaries, but Shampoo was not the one to tell her great-grandmother that she was in error. Instead, she had watched and hoped and prayed for a desperately needed miracle.   
That miracle had come. Her Ranma had found a way out from under Boukyaku's hand, but at a price that Shampoo could not even fathom. There was a difference within him, a locked door that none would ever be able to walk past. Even in her desperate rush to embrace him and her delirious joy at seeing him come into the restaurant, Shampoo had seen that difference. Worse was the affect that difference had on him. By sending her beloved to Boukyaku, she had lost his heart. She had heard that truth when he spoke to her and when he turned his eyes to gaze regretfully into her own.  
It was true that he had agreed to the promises, but he had agreed like one bound and gagged did while trying to protect his family from being killed or tortured. There had been no love for her in his agree- ment. His eyes had been icy and hateful when he looked down at her, but did that matter? She had won him, and her honour was restored. Yet she felt like she had bitten into a seemingly delicious pastry to find it was only filled with air. To win Ranma's body she had to lose his heart, but she could live with that. No Amazon needed love. He was just there to satisfy her honour. If she wanted love, she could marry another.   
But it was only Ranma that held her heart.  
Sighing, Shampoo stood up. It was obvious that Ranma no longer cared for her, even as a friend. Since that day he had agreed, she had not sighted him once. Of course she had not tried, but that was a moot point. Even when she had chased him and he had run, he had always come to the restaurant at least once a week for some free food. To make matters worse, Mousse was still gone. He had never returned from his desperate frenzy against Ranma. Shampoo wondered if he had even found Ranma or had just given up and walked from her life for ever.  
At that thought, she felt a twinge of guilt within her heart. Though she didn't love Mousse, he was a close friend, a connection with her past and the village. They had grown up together, and despite his repeated attempts to get her to marry him, they had remained on friendly terms. That had changed with Ranma, but it was his own fault for getting in the way of her honour. If he could defeat her, she might gladly marry him, but with Ranma as her intended, there was no chance Mousse would ever gain her hand. He would have to defeat Ranma first, and that was an impossibility.   
A gust of wind and a spray of rain brought Shampoo out of her thoughts. Turning she saw the door close and her great-grandmother closing an umbrella. Even from the back of the dining room, Shampoo could hear the low stream of curses that were pouring from Cologne's lips more effusively than liquor flowed in a bar.   
"What is wrong, Great-grandmother?" Shampoo asked in Mandarin.  
Shaking the umbrella dry, Cologne tossed it onto a coat rack by the door, the handle catching on a peg. "It's that fool son-in-law of mine," Cologne muttered as she walked into the restaurant, punctuating each step with a staccato strike of her cane on the floor.  
"Hiibachan?"   
"Get me some tea, Great-granddaughter. I'm too old to be wandering around in the rain."  
"Hai, Hiibachan," Shampoo answered and hurried into the kitchen. There was already some hot water on the stove, kept in case of emergencies, but Shampoo turned on the burner and allowed it to heat till it was steaming once again. As it heated, she scurried about the kitchen and put together a herbal tea that would warm Cologne and insure that she didn't catch any virus. By the time she had the herbs prepared, the water was ready. Pouring the water into the tea, Shampoo carried it back into the dining room.  
Her great-grandmother was sitting at her usual table with a candle lit in the center, watching the storm continue it's inexorable assault on Nerima. "Here is your tea, Hiibachan," shampoo smiled as she set the tea cup on the table.  
"You're such a dutiful child," Cologne said as she sipped at the tea. "Excellent choice of herbs, my child."  
Shampoo beamed at the compliment and took a seat across from the revered matriarch. Respectfully, Shampoo allowed her great-grandmother a few minutes to compose herself despite the fact that she was anxious to hear any news about Ranma. Shampoo was not a patient girl, however and the silence soon overcame her respectful silence. "What did you mean by that comment about my Husband?" she asked in Mandarin.  
"Your future husband," Cologne answered with scarcely veiled contempt in her voice, "has played us like fools, Xian Pu. For all of his promises about agreeing with the oaths I obtained from his family, he has still disappeared. Not only that, but he seems to have disappear- ed at about the same time that wayward, avian annoyance, Mousse did."  
"I don't understand, Great-grandmother," Shampoo said quietly. She couldn't see why Ranma and Mousse disappearing at the same time should be of any concern. Ranma had made a blood oath, and Mousse was no threat to any one. Her future husband could easily defeat him.  
"I don't understand completely either, Xian Pu," Cologne admitted, "but it is obvious that something is going on between them."   
"But what, Hiibachan?" Shampoo asked in a strained voice. "You don't think he'll go back on his blood oath, do you?"  
"No," Cologne said as she pulled out her pipe and began to pour a herbal mix into the bowl, "he is not going to risk breaking that kind of promise, but that doesn't mean he isn't trying to do something else, but I don't see what it might be." Rubbing her chin, Cologne lit her pipe on the candle that was burning on the table and then took a long drag from it. Shampoo kept quiet, knowing she wouldn't be able to offer anything to the conversation.   
"There is one possibility," Cologne said as a stream of smoke poured from her mouth to form a wreath around her head.  
"Yes, Great-grandmother."  
"It is possible that he is trying to find away to use Mousse to get out of the promise. If Mousse defeats you..."  
"That will never happen," Shampoo snapped indignantly, the Chinese words crisp and clean on her tongue.  
"But if Ranma trains him, it is a possibility," Cologne stated. "But that still leaves the problem of Mousse and Ranma fighting each other for the right to your hand. He must have something else planned, but I can't for the life of me figure it out."  
"Is this going to prevent my marriage, Great-grandmother?" Shampoo asked in a fearful voice.  
"No, Great-granddaughter, but it does complicate matters. I think I'd like to find your future husband before he gets too far out of my control."  
"But how?"  
"We'll have to sell the restaurant earlier than we expected. Tomor- row we'll start to advertise that we are selling. Hopefully, we'll be out of here in but a few days."  
"And back to China," Shampoo filled in with exuberance.   
"Yes, and then back to China and an end to this entire situation." Cologne smiled and leaned back in her chair, exhaling a puff of smoke that floated over face, obscuring her eyes and features. In the flick- ering light of the candle, Shampoo would have sworn that her great- grandmother appeared to become a demonic spirit for a second before the smoke cleared showing the withered face of her beloved mentor.  
  
-- 11 --   
  
Watching the board Soun smiled as he saw an opportunity. Moving his knight, he took Genma's lance before settling onto his mat. Inhaling on his cigarette while enjoying the serene morning, Soun waited for his friend to make a move. The sun was streaming into his backyard, illuminating the immaculate garden and large koi pond surrounded by a few tastefully arranged stones. The winding gravel path snaked through the garden and then around the house where Soun knew it ended at the side entrance of the dojo next to three peony bushes. He frowned as he thought about it. They should have been flowering by now, but he hadn't been back to check recently. He reminded himself to do that. Every year he picked the first blossoms from the bushes, two from each bush and arranged them in vases for his daughters. It was a tradition started by their mother, and he was always careful to heed that tradition. In the chaos of the last few weeks, though, he had almost forgotten, but then everything had changed drastically in a few short weeks.   
Genma's hand moving slowly across the board distracted Soun from his thoughts. Pushing a pawn forward, Genma promoted it and then settled back to wait, his eyes distant and uncaring. Soun frowned, both at Genma's move and his appearance. Although it was a practical move, it was useless given his friend's position. Even a first kyu amateur could see the danger. If it was just the move, Soun wouldn't have been worried, but Genma had thrown nearly every game they had played since Ranma had disappeared. Reaching out Soun picked up his king and flipped it, signaling defeat.  
It was quiet for a moment and Genma reached forward and advance his lance, but before his fingers left the piece, he stopped and stared. "Nani?" he exclaimed and then turned on Soun. "Nan-de su? Are you crazy?"   
"I did it to get your attention, old friend," Soun said. "I find no satisfaction in defeating someone who isn't trying to win. What is wrong with you?"  
"What makes you think something is wrong with me?" Genma demanded. "I'm just not interested in playing, other than to pass time."  
Soun shook his head ruefully. "I've not seen you this despondent since your son thought he was a girl." Genma only grunted as he turned away from his friend. Concerned, Soun watched his friend and tried to discern the problem. Whatever it was, it centered around Saotome's son. Ranma and martial arts were all that mattered to Genma. He had given everything else up for them. Ranma's disappearance had unhinged his friend, but why? From his time spent with Ranma as a house guest, Soun had observed the boy to be head-strong yet fiercely dedicated and one to never run away. "What is bothering you my friend?" Soun asked again.  
"I'd rather not talk about it," Genma stated, turning back to the board. "Let's just play another game."  
As Genma reset the pieces, Soun calmly swept his pieces from the board to fall with wooden clicks to the deck. "I think, I'd rather talk," Soun stated emphatically. "We are brothers, Genma, brothers of the Art. We've never held back from each other. Why don't you just unload your burdens on me? Tell me why you are suffering because of what has happened. True, your son has left, but like the birds in the spring, I expect to see him again."  
"What makes you think I'm worried about that stubborn, insolent, foolhardy son of mine!" Genma growled. "I should've never let your daughter talk me into making those promises."  
Soun blinked. "You were going to let your son die?"   
Genma nodded. "Tendou-kun, you've only known my son for a short time. You see what he has become, not who he was."  
"How so?" Soun asked curiously. "You're son, I will admit, is head-strong and much too indecisive for my tastes. He should have accepted the inevitable months ago, but he constantly fights the arrangement. The callous nature he has shown to my family is enough to have forced me to throw him out hundreds of times over, yet I do not. Why?" Genma only shrugged his shoulders. His friend's reasons and motives had always differed from his own. "He is disrespectful to his father and my daughter. His speech is rough. More so, he is a constant source of toil and tribulation, more of a petulant child striving for an indulgent mother's attention than the man he purports to be. Yet he sets himself so much above moral standards that even I'm impressed. For all his bravado, it is only recently that he has thwarted our wishes in regards to the engagement, and from what I've hear he did it with all those girls, and still my daughter stays beside him, more strongly than ever. You should be proud of him. Of his honour, of his sense of duty, and of what he has done for my family. What does it matter what he was? He is someone else now. Even the most loathsome caterpillar becomes an elegant butterfly."  
"Hmph! You could never understand, Tendou-kun. I was going to let him die because I couldn't disappoint him again."   
Though the words were spoken harshly, Soun knew that they were only a facade that his friend suffered beneath. "Disappoint? How have you let your son down?" Soun cursed himself as he saw the level gaze his friend turned on him. "I mean, you have trained him and brought him up to be a very accomplished heir. You have made him an honourable young man. He is the best martial artist I have ever been privileged to meet. Do you not see the way people flock to him though they find fault with his every breath? Do you not see the spirit and fire you gave him which he uses to bolster him in this life? Your son lights the world with his presence like a million lanterns upon the water. Is that disappointment? Is that not what every parent wishes for their child?"  
Genma turned his back on his friend. Soun knew his brother was watching the koi pond with a look of deep longing. Within his heart, he hoped his brother would not take the step he always took when faced with confrontation. To his relief, Genma spoke. "It is a light that shines on the world, yet leaves him in darkness."  
Tendou opened his mouth to refute his friend when Genma continued. "I no longer see any happiness in Ranma. He used to be a joy to be around. He trusted and loved me. He was my pride, my life. As I saw his skill, I trained him, and he eagerly exerted himself because he loved me. But it slowly died. At first it was small, the longing for home, for stability, and then came the disasters. The Neko-ken, the years of the life of a beggar, living off our wits more than our skills. He turned away from me. Tousan became otousan. He regarded me as a teacher more than a father. The Art was his life, there was nothing but the Art for him. School didn't matter. Friends didn't matter. And I tried to satisfy him and make him happy, but it only made him worse.  
"The trust had gone from our relationship. The respect slid as he found I was dragging him along, weighting him down. Otousan became Oyaji and nothing mattered to him except to be the best and to make a name for himself as a master of his own school. Then we came to Jusenkyo, and his dreams were shattered while I found a release from this life." Genma stood and began to leave. As he stepped from the porch into the immacu- late garden, he glanced over at Soun who was watching his friend with tear-filled eyes. "I've taken everything from him, and I didn't want to take the only thing he cared for from him also. You and your daughters are his family, Tendou-kun. I'm only a panda that interferes with a young man's life."  
As Genma walked away, Soun replied in a quiet voice that carried across the garden, halting Genma. "Do not be so harsh on yourself, Saotome-kun. Maybe you've given him a rough life. Maybe you've disappointed him. But he was happy for a time, and he'll come back to that happiness once he can find a way."  
"Maybe," Genma answered, "but it is a possibility I cannot see."  
"When he comes back," Tendou stated defiantly, "you can fix the past. Help Ranma to understand his place in the world. Make it so he doesn't make the same mistakes you did. You can offer him the wisdom of experience. Remember, if the fisherman could learn from the fish, his nets would always be full."  
"Hai, Tendou-kun." And Genma walked down the paths and around the edge of the house toward the dojo. On the porch, Soun sighed and began to clean up the spilled shogi pieces. Tragedy seemed to follow his life like a shadow. His wife, his daughters, his school, and now his friend. What other downfalls did the kami have in store? He didn't want to find out, and, if he could help it, he would not let his friend come to the end he saw in his future.   
Fitting the flat, marked tiles back into their separate silk bags, Soun stood and went into the house. He needed some tea to calm him before he began teaching the few students who still came to his dojo.  
  
-- 12 --   
  
"What did you want to talk about, Akane-chan?" Mio asked in her soft voice. They were sitting in the far corner of the school on a stone bench beneath the spreading branches of a large oak tree. Several more oaks surrounded them, blocking them out from the rest of the school. The new formed leaves, barely larger than Akane's palm, swayed in the wind, breaking the sunlight into a molted mosaic upon the grass at their feet.  
It had taken Akane all the morning to work up the courage to speak with Mio. It had also taken her the entire morning to get rid of Kunou. Instead of constantly pursuing her as was his wont, Kunou, since their discussion of several days ago, had become her shadow, following her from place to place like a lost puppy. Although she found it flattering, the fact that it was Kunou was driving her crazy. Shaking her head, she wondered if there was a way to remove him, but he seemed to be a wart that was impervious to any form of removal.   
Sighing, Akane put the problem of Kunou on the back shelf. Though she had to deal with it, it wasn't the important thing at the moment. Since running out of Tsujimura's office the previous evening, she had wandered in a daze for most of the time. Getting caught in the downpour had not helped, and she had been nearly incoherent when she returned home. She remembered very little of the night except an intense loneli- ness and a desire to find someone to confide in. Upon waking, and finding Kasumi sitting next to her bed, Akane had been tempted to tell her, but she didn't want her family to know yet. They would only complicate matters with Kasumi's over-mothering, her father's emotional breakdowns, and the risk of telling Nabiki. Of course, Akane wasn't certain about Nabiki. Despite what Ranma and others believed, Akane gave her middle sister the benefit of the doubt, especially in situations that arose within the family. Hadn't she kept her own counsel about the affair with Ranma and the statue? It was just a feeling that she couldn't trust Nabiki implicitly, and that she was what she needed, someone she could trust implicitly.   
And Mio was that person.  
Akane and Mio had met before Akane's mother had died. Actually they had met a few months earlier just by chance. Akane had been playing on the playground near her home when she saw Mio sitting alone on the swings crying. Since her mother had always taught her to be nice to people and help them out, she had gone over to the small, brown-haired girl and sat beside her, striking up a conversation. At first, the girl had not responded, forcing Akane to carry the conversation, but after a time, the girl had stopped crying and began to listen. After a while, she'd throw in a comment or two, and soon Akane had brought a smile to the girl's face.  
They had talked and played throughout the day, and finally Akane had asked Mio what was bothering her. To her horror, Akane had discovered that Mio's mother had left two weeks ago, and that her father had just told her, that day, that her mother didn't love her and was never coming back. Akane had once again found herself comforting her new friend at this revelation. Impulsively, Akane had offered Mio the use of her own mother, and an unbreakable bond was formed. Little had Akane known that her own mother would 'leave' only a few months later.  
Mio was there for her on that dreadful day, and through the years they had grown closer and closer becoming more of sisters and partners than friends. A trust had been built between them that Akane had never experienced with anyone. It was to Mio that she brought all of her problems, whether it was boys or family problems. In the last year and a half, it had been Ranma and the insanity that surrounded him. Mio was the rock Akane moored herself to during the frequent storms that lashed at her door. The fact that she had not brought this one to her best friend weighed heavily on Akane's shoulders, but it was only a small matter. Mio would forgive her, and Akane needed someone's support.   
"Akane?" Mio asked again, placing a gentle hand on Akane's shoulder. Akane smiled reassuringly at her friend and took on last look around their spot. Though it was Saturday and the final bell had rung, she didn't want to chance any of this being overheard.   
After a few moments, she turned her eyes back to Mio's worried face, satisfied that they were alone. "I need to tell you something," Akane began, "and I couldn't let anyone else hear."  
"What's wrong, Akane?" Akane relaxed as Mio asked the question. She could always trust Mio to know when to be there and when to wait. "Akane, you can always trust me," Mio reassured Akane, squeezing her shoulder.  
Akane couldn't help the tears as she reached for and pulled Mio tight against her. "I-I didn't know what to do. I wanted to tell someone, but...but I wasn't sure. I was so ashamed, so very ashamed..." Akane buried her face in Mio's shoulder and began to cry in earnest. "I'm so alone, Mi-chan," Akane sobbed, allowing her loneliness to pour out onto Mio's sympathetic shoulder. Mio held Akane gently as she cried, comforting her like a mother does her child. Slowly, Akane's sobs ceased, and her tears dried. Wiping her eyes and still holding Mio in a loose hug, Akane apologized, "I'm sorry, Mi-chan. I-I didn't mean to do this."  
"It's okay, Akane-chan. I've cried on your shoulder a lot too. Is this about Ranma? You've been acting strange ever since he left." Akane shook her head. "Then what is it?"  
Attempting to compose herself, Akane pulled away from Mio and folded her hands into her lap. For a moment she readied herself, and then she began to speak. "It's sort of about Ranma. I mean it doesn't make this any easier without him. I don't know if he's coming back, but he promised. But that's not the problem. He'll come back. I know it. I've gotta believe he will," Akane whispered. She dropped her gaze to her hands, which were twisting her skirt in nervousness. "It's just a question of when he does. He needs to help me decide, and I don't want to do this alone." For a moment Akane was silent. She was trying to find a way to tell Mio without blurting the news out, but it wasn't working. Glancing furtively up at Mio's face, Akane saw only compassion and expectance. "It's not even that," Akane said, and she took a deep breath. "I'm pregnant."  
There was no exclamation of surprise. There was no shocked "You're not?" Mio didn't say a word at first, and then Akane felt Mio's arms wrap around her shoulders. "He'll come back, Akane-chan, and I'll always be here for you," Mio whispered into Akane's ear.   
A weight was lifted off Akane's shoulders at those words. A few tears slid down her cheeks, but they were tears of relief instead of the sobs of grief and loneliness she had spent the last week shedding on her pillow. For the first time since that dreadful night when Cologne had almost killed Ranma, Akane felt as if the world wasn't against her, and that maybe things would turn out alright.  
"Arigato," Akane whispered, on the verge of tears again, but for a different reason. "I knew I could trust you, Mi-chan."  
"Always, Neechan." Akane smiled. In the past they had always called each other sister. In high school, however, it had slowly gone into disuse, but Mio knew when to use it to bring a smile to Akane's lips.  
"What am I going to do, Mi-chan?" Akane asked, her smile slipping.  
"Well first, I think we should get some ice cream and celebrate, you've got to be hungry."  
"Not really," Akane sighed. Though there had been times in the last week or so when she had been ravenous, mostly she felt sick and out of sorts. Unfortunately, this was one of those occasions.  
"Well, we're getting it anyway," Mio insisted, tugging Akane to her feet, "and then maybe a movie? Yes, definitely a movie. You've been making Gosunkugi look chipper for the last few weeks."  
Akane allowed herself to be led by Mio as they walked out of the grove of oaks. "What'd I do without you?"  
Mio gave Akane one of her half-smiles, putting all of her love in her eyes instead of on her face. Then she frowned a little. "Of course, I'm mad at you."  
"Huh?" Akane halted in her tracks and only started walking when Mio tugged her hand slightly.  
"We promised to have our first kids at the same time," Mio answered in an exasperated tone that told anyone that Akane should have figured out something so obvious, "and I don't even have a boyfriend." Mio sighed wistfully. "Do you think Ranma would help you keep your promise?"  
"Mi-chan!"  
Mio giggled at Akane's shocked expression. "Gomen, I'm just trying to cheer you up."  
For a moment Akane just started at Mio and then the beginnings of a smile tugged at her lips before she was laughing with her friend. "You're the best, Neechan," Akane said. "I think I'd like that movie."  
Smiling the two friends moved across the fields of Furinkan, weaving in between the knots of students as the light breeze swirled their skirts and Mio's long hair. Behind them, the wind moved a low hanging bough of an oak tree aside, revealing the malicious grin of Raiko. Raiko was leaning against the trunk of one of the oaks, immensely please with herself for following Akane and Mio. She knew something had been going on, but Akane's confession to Mio had been beyond Raiko's expectations. She now had the ammo to make sure Akane was finally brought down from her high perch above the rest of the girls at Furinkan High. All of them, even the ones who purported to be Akane's friend, would deride the little minx, and then the boys would see her as the slut she truly was instead of their precious and virginal goddess.   
Although Raiko wanted to set her plans in motion as soon as possible, she waited until Akane and Mio disappeared into a group of students. Waiting a few more minutes to be safe, Raiko slipped out of the oak trees and headed in the opposite direction. Halfway to the athletic fields, she spotted one of her friends, another girl who had detested Akane since her boyfriend had dumped her to go chase after the illustrious Queen of Furinkan. "Sumire! Wait for me, please," Raiko called out. "You've gotta hear what I just found out."  
  
-- 13 --   
  
Placing the last bowl on the table, Kasumi stepped back to admire her handiwork. The table was immaculate, the places set for all five members of the Tendou household. Simple china bowls and cups were at each place, a deep spoon for the soup and the lacquered, teakwood chopsticks she usually reserved for special occasions, but tonight she had just wanted to add more style to her dinner. That was why she had placed the flowers in the center of the table. Three peonies, white, magenta and a rosy pink, from the bushes by the dojo. She had been inspired to pick them when she saw her father's gift of the peonies in a vase that he had placed in her and her sisters' rooms.   
Frowning at the arrangement, she leaned forward and turned the white blossom outward so it distracted the eye from the two pink blossoms. Nodding in satisfaction, she lifted her head to see Nabiki watching her with an amused expression. "How are you, Nabiki-chan?" Kasumi asked politely. Her sister was dressed in a houndstooth, tailored business jacket over a white, silk blouse which was tucked into her black, sheath skirt which ended just above her knees where her pantyhose began. "You look very nice."  
Nabiki smiled at the compliment. "I try my best, Oneechan." She paused for a moment as she turned her critical eye on the table. "Why did you spend so much time on this. No one ever notices it. They're too busy eating or fighting or doing whatever."  
"You just did," Kasumi answered with a smile.  
"You're impossible, Oneechan," Nabiki exclaimed. "How can you get so much satisfaction out of something other people can't see."  
"Other people see it, Nabiki," Kasumi explained evenly as she picked up the tray that she had brought the utensils in on. "You just don't see them seeing it. You need your money to keep score. I get it from the approving glances of our neighbors when they come to visit. I get it when the other housewives tell me that I should host another tea. I get it from the small gifts they bring when they visit my home. But mostly, I know it's worth it when I see my family happy." The last was said almost regretfully, and Nabiki glanced at her sister, but saw only the normal smile on her face.  
Nabiki cast her gaze downward as her sister didn't continue. For some reason, Kasumi put her on edge. It was nothing threatening, only an inability on her part to fathom how anyone could subjugate themselves to something that wasn't them. She remembered the time when Kasumi had been as much like Akane, and in many ways even more so. "Actually, I was coming down to ask you for something," Nabiki said to break the uncom- fortable silence. Though they loved each other greatly, none of the Tendou sister's were comfortable with silence in the presence of the others. It always led to dwelling morosely on the past for Nabiki, and she suspected the same with Akane and Kasumi.  
"What is that?" Kasumi asked curiously.  
"Do you know where Okaasan's jade earrings are? The ones with the inlaid gold?"   
Kasumi frowned for a moment, her eyes turning inward as she mentally searched for the earrings. "I think they're in my room," she eventually said. "I'll help you get them." Placing the tray on the table, Kasumi motioned for Nabiki to follow.   
They went up the stairs and down the hall to Kasumi's room. As she entered the room, Nabiki observed the soft decorations and feminine feel of Kasumi's room. She had visited enough that it didn't bother her anymore, but it was always strange to walk through all three of their rooms and note the changes. Kasumi's was so like their mother's. Her own was sterile and more for retreat and work than living. And Akane's was just the same. She was the only one who refused to change. Mentally slapping herself, Nabiki turned her attention outward.   
Kasumi was rummaging through one of her jewelry boxes, a distant expression on her face. For a moment Nabiki entertained the idea of asking her sister what was bothering her, but Kasumi spoke up before Nabiki took the initiative. "Do you ever feel like you're not doing your best? Or that your best will never be good enough?"  
Nabiki shrugged, wondering where this had come from. Kasumi never doubted herself.   
"The most important part of keeping a house is making sure those in it are happy," Kasumi continued, seemingly oblivious of Nabiki. "If they aren't, I'm only baking a pie crust while telling everyone that it is filled with the most succulent berries." Kasumi picked up a set of earrings from her jewelry box and sat down on her bed. Nabiki noticed they were the ones she wanted, small jade ovals engraved with a gold tree. Nabiki made no comment; the shock of Kasumi's words robbing her of speech.  
"Okaasan always kept us happy," Kasumi said sadly, "and I tried to. But I just can't seem to make the pie right. Sometimes it's empty, and sometimes it doesn't taste good. I try so much to be like Okaasan, and I fall short time and time again. I want you and Akane to be happy, but I'm not doing a good job of it."  
"Could anyone have done better?" Nabiki asked. It was disturbing to see her sister like this. Kasumi was always strong and resilient, taking life as it came and just making the best out of it. She had never imagined that her sister harboured such a deep insecurity about herself. "Maybe we are not the best, but I think we're well off. Don't mistake me, it hasn't been a nice way to grow up, but it could have been worse, Oneechan, a lot worse." Confused and flustered, Nabiki tried to find something else to say. She didn't really see where Kasumi could see unhappiness in the family. Their father had slowly regained his vitality with his friend, and even with the recent setbacks, he was still stable and cried less than usual. Akane was acting out of sorts, but who could blame her. And Akane's problems were not of Kasumi's devising. The only other person was herself... "If this is about me, Oneechan, then don't worry. You've done nothing that has hindered me. Without you, I don't think I'd be as independent as I am. I don't think I've been happier in a long time." That wasn't entirely true, but for once in her life she was actually realizing that she had a good chance at something better than a housewife or petty blackmailer and extortioner of school kids.  
Kasumi shook her head. "I'm proud of you, Nabiki. I see a lot of potential in you, and maybe there are some things I wish I had done differently, but they have turned out to be assets. I'm worried about Akane."  
"Akane?"  
"Last night, she came home crying. She was soaked and might have taken sick if I hadn't been in her room when she came home. She kept mumbling and calling out to people, saying that he hated her." Kasumi turned to look at Nabiki who hadn't moved an inch. "She's been like that since Ranma left. She doesn't talk, and I can't talk to her. I don't know what's going on. Is she hurt, or sick, or is something else. I'm so worried about her, Nabiki. I feel so helpless." Kasumi turned her face away, but Nabiki saw the glint of tears.  
"Oneechan..." Nabiki took a step forward and stopped. She didn't know what to say. This was a side of Kasumi she had never seen. Over the years, Kasumi had been a rock for the family. She had kept them together as a family, gave them support, and freely handed out the understanding and love they all needed but could never ask for.   
Nabiki never really spoke with her older sister. She made sure there was enough money and let the family run itself around her. There had been a time when Nabiki had turned to her sister for love. On the day of her mother's death and the weeks and months after it, Kasumi was always beside her two sisters to hold them and keep them occupied while their father tried to get over his grief. From that moment, Kasumi had taken them under her wing telling them that she would be their mommy. That she would always be there for them, to help them with everything their departed mother had done. That dependence had disappeared over time, but Nabiki did remember it, and she was thankful for it. She had no clue what might have happened if her sister hadn't taken the reins of the family.  
"You've never been helpless, Oneechan," Nabiki stated. "I some- times envy you. Look at what you did with us. We're better off than most people. So we've got our problems. You were, and still are, a kid. You can't expect to the be the best. I know, Oneechan. It took me years to get where I am, and I sacrificed a lot too. So did Akane, so did Otousan. But you did keep us together."  
"Then why can't I do it now?" Kasumi asked quietly.  
Nabiki sighed and sat down on the desk chair, her back to the wall. "I don't know. Maybe it's just that this isn't something you can deal with. Akane has to make her own peace. I know Ranma talked to her. I know he isn't deserting her, so he had to tell her that. She's probably just imagining things and feeling sorry for herself to boot. You never know with Akane, she chooses the weirdest things to get fixated on."  
"It's not that," Kasumi said. "I'm so accustomed to her showing affection and wearing what she feels like a set of clothes. It's one of the things I love best about her. I've never seen her make something up to be depressed about. She's always been so optimistic and happy."  
"She's not like you, Oneechan," Nabiki said, leaning forward. "This is about Ranma, and she's rarely ever been anything but optimistic where he's concerned."  
Kasumi smiled. "I know, but it feels different. It was only that one day that she was glowing, but by the evening she was crying and chasing after P-chan when he ran away."  
"Don't remind me," Nabiki muttered. "But that was the day Ranma left, and she was pretty upset about it."  
"I don't like seeing her like this. Ever since she came back from Okinawa, she's been so depressed, and now it just seems like it's getting worse. I wonder if she's still sick. It's the only reason I can think of."  
"Still sick?" Nabiki asked in surprise.  
"She was sick for about a week after she came back from Okinawa," Kasumi explained. "She even threw up several times. I think it's gone away, but she's been awfully pale in the mornings. Why do you ask?"  
Nabiki shook her head for a moment. Something was nagging her. It seemed that something Ranma had said and what Kasumi had just told her were connected somehow, but how? "She was throwing up yesterday morning. At least I think she was. She said Toufu-sensei had given her something to clean out her system. I really didn't think of it, I was a little indisposed yesterday morning."   
Kasumi smiled. She knew Nabiki had been suffering a hangover, but had calmly let it pass. She assumed it was something to do with why Nabiki was dressed up, but that wasn't her business either. What was her business was Akane's health. She had told Akane to go see Toufu the day Ranma left, and then he had delivered something that night, and she had thrown it on... "The counter!"  
"Nani?"  
"Toufu-sensei dropped an envelope off for Akane last week. I threw it on the counter when I saw dinner boiling over. I became distracted when Toufu stopped by."  
"Birds of a feather," Nabiki muttered under breath, but before Kasumi could ask her what she had said, she jumped ahead to the mysterious envelope. "What was in it?"  
"I don't know I never looked at it. I don't even think I gave it to Akane."  
"Why don't we go look at it then?" Nabiki suggested.  
"Nabiki!" Kasumi exclaimed, shocked at the thought of violating her sister's privacy. "That's Akane's business, not ours. I won't open it."  
"You don't have to," Nabiki stated. "I will."   
With a pert flip of her head, Nabiki rose to her feet and left Kasumi's room while Kasumi hurried behind, imploring Nabiki to not do this, but as they walked down the stairs and into the kitchen, Kasumi's protests became weaker and she finally asked, "Are you sure this okay? I don't want Akane to get mad at me or you. If she doesn't trust us..." Kasumi left the thought unfinished, but Nabiki knew what she was implying. If Akane didn't trust Kasumi-oneechan, then things would just become worse. Nabiki, however, had a strong inkling that they couldn't get much worse. Akane was hiding something, something damaging to herself or her family, and she was not about to tell anyone. Nabiki refused to allow her sister's stubborn will to do something to hurt herself.   
It took a moment for Nabiki to find the envelope. Kasumi finally had to point to a counter that was covered with bills and other mail. Shifting through it, Nabiki finally uncovered the thick manilla envelope with Akane's name and the name and address of Toufu-sensei's clinic on it. The last time Nabiki had seen an envelope like this was when Toufu- sensei's former master had dropped of the instructions for the care of their mother.   
A feeling of dread came over her as she opened the envelope and dumped the contents on the counter. She frowned at what she saw. They were all pamphlets on pregnancy and taking care of the special needs associated with pregnancy. But why would Akane have them? "Oh shit," she whispered as she put the pieces together. Ranma had admitted he'd slept with her. Kasumi said she was pale in the morning. She'd been depressed. Hell, she'd even seen her throw up the other day. "Shit, I've gotta be blind."  
"What is wrong?" Kasumi asked as she stepped up beside Nabiki and saw the final clues. "Oh my," Kasumi breathed.   
"I think Akane has a bigger problem than we thought," Nabiki muttered. Grabbing a bunch of pamphlets, Nabiki glanced at them and threw them onto the counter top in disgust. "She could have at least told us that she was...Arggh. Where is she?" Nabiki demanded. The entire situation frustrated and angered her. "Why didn't she trust us, her own sisters." Nabiki was about to storm from the kitchen when she felt Kasumi's gentle hand grasp her shoulder. At the touch, all the anger seeped from her mind.  
"I think we need to talk to her," Kasumi said. "It might just be a mistake, this might just be some information Toufu dropped of for a school project."   
Nabiki gave her sister and exasperated look. "I doubt it, Kasumi. She slept with Ranma, I know that much. And it would explain everything that's been going on. Where is she?"   
"She's not home, she called me to tell me she's spending the night with Mio. She'll be back tomorrow morning."  
Nabiki sighed. "Well, at least this isn't going to interrupt my plans for tonight, but it sure isn't going to help it." Nabiki smiled. "I think Ranma's going to be owing me a lot when he gets back." Nabiki glanced down at her watch. "I've gotta get going, Kasumi." When she didn't get an answer, Nabiki turned to see her older sister looking at the pamphlets, tears in her eyes. "Kasumi?"  
"I didn't even put it together. I would have just let it go on and on and tried to make it better by being nice to her instead of talking to her." Kasumi sniffed and wiped her eyes. "She must be so alone. No one's their to help her. She must be terrified, Nabiki. No wonder she came home crying."  
"C'mon sis, you're being too hard on yourself," Nabiki said. "I didn't catch it until just know, and I generally pay attention to these things." Impulsively she gave Kasumi a hug. "She's gonna need you sis. You know that. You're her mom, the only one she's got. Who do you think'll help her. Me? Otousan? C'mon, you're all we got."  
"Arigato, Nabiki-chan. You're right."  
"Of course I'm right," Nabiki stated brusquely as she stepped back from her sister and straightened her clothes. "Now where are those earrings. I've gotta help Ranma tonight." At the thought of Ranma, Nabiki began to giggle. "He's going to freak when he finds this out. I hope I have my camera then."  
"Nabiki-chan!" Kasumi exclaimed and then smiled. "You'll help me tomorrow? I think she'll need both of us."  
"Sure," Nabiki remarked off-handedly, "but only if you go get those earrings. My ride will be here in a few..." A car honked outside, interrupting Nabiki. "Shit!" Nabiki shot upstairs to get the earrings. A moment later she was running down the stairs, trying to put the earrings as she fumbled with a leather file holder. Kasumi smiled at her sister. Nabiki would do well for herself, now she just had to worry about Akane. Looking back at the kitchen, Kasumi sighed as she heard the front door open and close. She didn't feel like making dinner, she had to decide how to approach Akane, and how to break the news to her father, or even if she did tell him. Picking up the phone, she decided take-out would have to be satisfactory for the night's meal. It seemed a waste after she had gone through all the trouble to set the table, but it no longer mattered to her.  
  
-- * --   
  
Translator's Notes:  
  
Meiyo Ai soshite Nikushimi - as always, honour, love, and hate  
  
Nan-de su - what was that for, why'd you do that  
  
for those new to Japanese fics:  
  
oneechan -older sister neechan - familiar form of older sister okaasan - mother otousan - father obasan - older woman or aunt ojisan - older man or uncle hiibachan - great-grandmother nani - what  
  
Author's Notes:  
  
I never intended for this to turn out as long as it did. I prefer to keep my posts under 80K, but this one just turned out to be an impossibilty to do it that way. Too much has to be explained, and too much has to happen for this to end up as a short piece. As you can see several of the seprat plots are coming to a crossroads in this part, and it was important that I keep the time continuity and make sure that the story went to a satisfactory conclusion for this part. Also I wanted to be anle to return to ranma, Mousse, Ryouga, and Ukyou in the next post.   
One thing you'll notice is that I'm trying to separate the action by Nerima and not nerima. This makes it easier for me to write and hopefully easier for you to read. I'll probably be posting a rough timeline of the story sometime this week for anyone who is actually interested in keeping track of time.   
Well this is getting long enough, and I think I'll cut it short and say stay tuned for the next episode. It'll be coming out in the next two weeks, I promise.  
  
Coming Next time:  
MASN Ch 5 Separate Paths Pt 5 (untiled as of today)  
  
Until next time  
Joseph A Kohle  
  
Please comment on this.  
  
----*----*----*----*----*----*----*----*----*----  
All rights and priveleges to Ranma Nibunnoichi   
belong to Rumiko Takahashi. The characters of her   
series are used without her permission for the   
purpose of entertainment only. This work of fic-  
tion is not meant for sale or profit.   
  
All original characters are the creation of the  
author. All copyright privileges to these chara-  
cters are reserved for the author.  
  
This story is a product of the author's hard work   
and imagination. Do not modify, add to, or make   
use of any part of this work without the author's   
knowledge and consent. Please feel free to archive   
this work.   
  
Comments and criticism are welcome.   
Written by Joseph A. Kohle, (c) 1997.   
Send all comments to ashira@worldnet.att.net  
Find some of my fanfics at  
http://www.geocities.com/Tokyo/Flats/6184/index.html 


	18. Vol 4 Chap 5

DISCLAIMER: Ranma Nibunnoichi is the property of Takahashi Rumiko, Shogakukan Inc, Shonen Sunday Comics, and Viz Video. It is used without their permission and is not intended for profit but only for the enjoyment of fans of the Ranma series. All characters within this fic that are not the property of the above mentioned are copyrighted to the author, Joseph Kohle, January 1997. This work of fiction is the result of the author's hard work and is for the enjoyment of others. Please do not change, modify, or use any segment of this story without the author's knowing and written consent. Feel free to archive this work.  
  
************************************************************************   
  
Meiyo Ai soshite Nikushimi  
  
A Ranma Nibunnoichi Fanfic  
by Joseph Kohle  
  
Part IV: Separate Paths  
Chapter V Transient Foundations  
  
-- 1 --   
  
  
Lifting the glass, Nabiki rotated her wrist in a gentle loop and watched the dark liquid roll within the glass. Bringing the glass to her lips, she let a small sip of the dark liquid touch her tongue and roll around her mouth. She savored the sharp bitter taste of the wine, swal- lowing just before the tingling disappeared from the surface of her tongue. Continuing to roll the liquid in the glass, she kept a watchful eye on the darkened interior of the restaurant, the same one she had met Yoshioka in the previous time.  
This time she was the one who had arrived early. In truth, Yoshioka was running late, nearly a quarter of an hour late. The delay was fray- ing Nabiki's already taut nerves. Although she had been ecstatic after she read the letter his son had delivered to her, Nabiki's enthusiasm had cooled like a coal taken from the fire. Her initial confidence had been crumbled as if the coal were crushed beneath a foot.   
The quickness of his reply, at first vindicating her work, had become shadowed with doubt. It was rare that anything was ever acted upon with that amount of alacrity in the business world, unless it was a refusal. Any proposal had to be debated and looked at from several angles before it could become an acceptance. It depended on who Yoshioka was forced to go through to get approval. Her best hope was that only he was required to look at the proposal himself, but the chances of that were as good as the chances of winning by betting on Gosunkugi.  
The possibility that the deal might fall through had terrifying consequences for not only Ranma but now her younger sister. Even if she hadn't been tricked into doing this by Ranma, her sister's pregnancy forced her to do everything within her limited abilities to ensure Ranma's safe return. If the deal fell through...  
Grinding her teeth in frustration, Nabiki took another sip from her glass and placed it on the table. Her sister's pregnancy angered her. It was one more thing added to an already heaping platter of troubles for both herself, her family, and her estranged and reluctant future brother-in-law. No, she corrected herself. Ranma was no longer engaged to Akane, and so a slippery and delicate situation was made even more untenable.   
Lifting her glass and downing half the contents, Nabiki returned to her sister's pregnancy. What could have possessed her sister to get pregnant? Nabiki shook her head. That was an unfair and callous ques- tion. Pregnancy was the last thing on Akane's immediate goals. But couldn't her sister have made at least a pretense at trying to prevent Ranma from coercing her into sex? And Ranma could have had the common sense to know when it was going too far. But, she realized even those wishes were being unfair. There was nothing either of them could have done to prevent what had happened.   
Nabiki knew that her younger sister and Ranma were people who were invariably ruled by emotion instead of reason. When it came to each other, however, they instinctively denied everything and so it was allowed to build and fester. At some point, they both, like the pressure building beneath a fault line, needed a release which generaly took the form of their fights or Ranma's fights with others. When the violent reaction had been beyond Ranma, the quake had become an earth-shattering outpouring of love.   
In her own way, Nabiki understood what had happened. She rarely allowed herself to feel anything. When she did, it was only around her family and then it was a feeling of comfort or annoyance. Her emotions were kept tightly in hand, like the horses of a chariot, only allowed to deviate a few steps left or right from her center. Some days, however, the disappointments and stresses built upon her like snow upon the mountain until it became overwhelming. It only took a small thing for an avalanche to begin, but when it did, it was all she could do to make it to her room and turn up the music on her stereo before her world collapsed around her. There, she would curl up on her bed and cry, her body-racking sobs muffled by her pillows and heavy blankets so that no one would hear her weakness. It didn't happen often, but Nabiki couldn't count the number of times it had happened since her mother's death on her fingers.  
The same thing had happened with Ranma and Akane. Too much had been placed on them in a short time to be able to deal with it on any level other than a very physical one. She could not blame Ranma for his actions anymore than she could blame her sister. Even without blame, the situation was stressful and dangerous. The fact that Akane was trying to hide it was only making matters worse. Rubbing a fingerover her temple, Nabiki finished off the wine. The subtle complexities of the situation and the far reaching effects were giving her a headache.  
"Heavy thoughts and worries do not become you, Nabiki-san." Blink- ing, Nabiki glanced up to see Yoshioka Satoru standing opposite her at the table, a slightly amused smile on his thin lips. "I believe I prefer you as the parka that sheds its worries like water."   
Bowing her head at his words, Nabiki set her glass on the table as she switched her track of thinking and slipped into a business manner. Focusing on one thing, to the exclusion of all others, was a trick she had picked up a few months after she had taken over the responsibility of the family accounts. Now, it came in handy to keep her calm and collected within any situation. Gracefully rising to her feet, Nabiki bowed to the older man. "Konban wa, Yoshioka-san," she said. "Thank you for inviting me here once more. I hope it is an omen of what is to come."  
Inclining his head, Yoshioka motioned at the table. "I should be greeting you and asking forgiveness for my tardiness, but let us relax first and get something to eat and drink." Nodding in agreement, Nabiki knelt down on the plush, silk-covered zabuton adorning her place at the table, while Yoshioka settled onto his zabuton and unbuttoned his dark blazer. Motioning for the waitress, Yoshioka spoke a few words to the serving girl and then sent her off. She immediately returned with a martini for him and another glass of wine for Nabiki. "I hope you don't mind, but I took the liberty of ordering for you."  
Nabiki frowned mentally. She was perfectly capable of ordering for herself, but she wasn't about to insult him by saying that out loud. "That was very kind of you."  
"But you don't like it, do you?" Satoru asked with a half-smile.  
"I never said that."  
"Of course you didn't, but you are very independent. It is one of your most admirable qualities. It is rare to find your spirit combined with your intelligence and refinement in a woman these days. Most are either forced into their roles in the home, or they find they must prove themselves in the world by working against it. Maybe it is an affliction of our society, but to find one such as yourself, confident in your own means, ambitious, but tactful, is a rarity that I find compelling and interesting. It is one of the reasons I asked you here tonight."  
"And the other is?"  
"Why don't we talk about that over dinner and some sake?" Satoru suggested. "It is the most appropriate way to celebrate our new business arrangement, Tendou-san."  
Nabiki felt the tension that had been in her shoulders run off like melt from a glacier. They had come to an agreement. Even her sister's pregnancy disappeared as a giddy feeling of accomplishment washed over her. "I am honoured, Yoshioka-san."  
"It is what you deserved." Yoshioka-san shrugged. He glanced around, observing the restaurant. Turning back to her, Nabiki found him to be serious once again. "It will be some time before our meal arrives. Why don't we discuss the arrangement now, before we begin celebrating?"  
"That would be the appropriate course of action," Nabiki agreed, sipping at her wine as she kept a tight rein on her emotions. She knew her face was as calm as ever, but just underneath the surface she wanted to shout out in jubilation.  
"First let me say that my company, Mishimata Incorporated, is very interested in your proposal, but only on a few conditions." Yoshioka reached into his dark suit coat and pulled out an envelope. Opening it, he withdrew a thick sheath of folded paper and unfolded it, laying it on the table.  
"You were actually lucky to get even this agreement, Tendou-san. Although I was going to endorse the agreement between us for my own reasons, I thought it prudent to check with my supervisor. He, in turn, passed the proposal up the line until it reached the vice president of Mishimata Division of Land and Holdings." Clearing his throat, Yoshioka picked up the top sheet and began to read from a section: "'In matters of business, it is confusing how the key to a hard sought after treasure can fall into one's hands through sheer happenstance. It is such with this proposal. For nearly four years, the property the aforementioned establishment stands on has interested our company, and not only this property but the surrounding three city blocks in addition; however, due to zoning ordinances, which have recently changed, and the reticence and oftentimes stubborn reluctance of the owners, we have been unable to purchase no more than five properties.   
"'The aforementioned property lies at the apex of all five of these properties and gives Mishimata a solid hold within the district. We would ask that you pursue this in any manner you see fit, so long as the property that is in question becomes the sole property of the Mishimata Division of Land and Holdings.'"  
As Yoshioka read part of the memo, Nabiki's mind was whirling in possibilities. Not only had she gained the deal, but she had maneuvered Yoshioka into a corner. He would lose more by not gaining the property than she would by having the deal fall through. Yet, why had he divulged that information to her? He had compromised his position in the deal, giving her the upper hand. She was unable to fathom his reasoning for doing such a thing, but there had to be one. The problem was that she could see no advantage. Sighing, she took the bait. "So what is your company prepared to offer me, Yoshioka-san?"  
"Nothing," Yoshioka stated plainly.  
"Nothing?" Nabiki whispered in disbelief. How could they offer her nothing? She was the one who had brought the deal to them. But, as Yoshioka began to answer her question, she realized the mistake she had made. It was with a sinking feeling, that she watched her hard work and her hopes begin to funnel down the drain like so much wasted bath water.  
"You made one fatal mistake in your dealings, Tendou-san," Yoshioka explained evenly. "You never had any rights to selling the property you have mentioned. You also have no insurance that you can guarantee a sale. More than that, my company could approach this owner on our own and make a deal as good as yours, without all of the hoop jumping and subtle intrigue. Those are impediments to any deal, and it is unwise and dangerous for any company to participate in them. In a purely business sense, you don't have a foot to stand on."  
"You are saying I have nothing to offer you? Not even the reduction of the debts your son owes me?" Nabiki stated.  
Taking a sip of his drink, Yoshioka folded his hands on the table in front of him and leaned forward. "My son's debt is his concern. He has squandered his money on risky ventures, and I will make no reparations for him."  
"I see you've made your decision." Nabiki began to stand up.  
"One second, Nabiki," Yoshioka said, motioning her to sit with his hand. "I told you this was a celebratory dinner, and it is." Nabiki blushed a little. In the moment of the disappointing news, she had completely forgotten that he was here to conduct some business. "I'm sorry if I led you astray with my previous words, but they are true, and you needed to know about it before I make you my offer."  
"No, it is my fault," Nabiki stated. "I should never have lost sight of the big picture. This deal means a lot to me and my family though." Her nerves were still jumping like oil on a griddle. She was embarrassed about forgetting his initial words. She was flustered and ashamed because of the blunder she had made, but the new hope she was finding in his words was trying to form a foolish grin on her face, in vain but it was trying.  
"Although I do not understand the full particulars of this situation, I understand that your family has a large stake in it. It is one of the reasons I decided to work with you. Also, I find some benefit to be gained from associating with you."  
"If I may be so presumptuous," Nabiki said, "may I ask you what your willing to offer?"  
"Always to the point. It is one of the things I admire about you, Nabiki-san. And you are right, you need to know the terms. But, before we discuss that. I want you to know that I am going out a limb for you. My company authorized me any means necessary and these are the ones I have decided upon. My superior agrees fully with my proposal. I'm sorry, but the terms I am offering cannot be negotiated. It is a simple yes or no. Do you understand?"  
She knew what a deal like that meant. She could gain some serious losses just to make sure her ends were met, but the ends always justi- fied the means. She was willing to do almost anything for her family. So, she straightened her back and set her shoulders, preparing for the worst and stated, "I understand."   
Yoshioka Satoru reached into his blazer again and pulled out another, thinner envelope. This he handed to her, and placed a pen on the table between them. Nervously, Nabiki broke the seal on the enve- lope, and pulled out a few sheets of paper with the Mishimata crest and watermark emblazoned on them. Against her will, her eyes found the first line and began to read through the agreement. Half way through, her hands began to shake, and it required all her will power to remain in control and hold onto the contract as she finished reading it.  
As she finished, she gently placed the papers on the table and stared at Yoshioka. For the first time in her life, she was truly and uterly speechless.   
"Is something wrong with the contract?" Yoshioka asked.  
Nabiki shook her head.   
Yoshioka missed her movement as he reached for the papers. "It seems to be everything you need. My company will make a bid for the restaurant and then have our sister company make a second bid. We will continue the bidding for as long as you deem necessary and then settle at a price we deem reasonable. In exchange, we will allow you to act as mediator and to keep a five percent commission on any deal we make with the only provision being that you become an employee of Mishimata upon graduating from your school in the last week of June. We will of course give you two weeks hiatus to report to your job."  
Nabiki found her voice quickly as Yoshioka finished his explana- tion. "I never expected anything like this. Of course I have no problem with this." Nabiki smiled a little, some colouring returning to her cheeks. "Of course, I don't think I'll be any good with real estate. You might be losing something on this deal."  
Smiling, Yoshioka handed her the document back. "You won't be working in the Division of Land and Holdings, Nabiki-san. My supervisor and myself have much more profitable plans for you."  
"But why?" Nabiki asked as she read a subclause in the contract she had missed the first time. "You're starting me with a salary most four- year employees only dream of. And, there is no statement of what I'll be doing. I could end up a secretary for all I know."  
"Nabiki-san, do you think I'll let that happen," Yoshioka stated simply. "And if you must know, I've told you several times that I see great potential in you. It is not uncommon for high school graduates to be picked up and trained by companies. The recruiters cull through the graduating classes and even start in earlier classes, looking for students who might be potential assets to their company. For every high performer they find, they gain a bonus and prestige within the company. I expect you to go far, and as your mentor, I'll gain a great deal of prestige within the company when you do, not to mention a substantial raise for my performance."  
Nabiki understood all of this. The concept of plucking the school virgins was not a new one, but it was becoming more common after a small hiatus. In the past few months, she had been approached by a dozen companies, each offering her a different type of position and a decent salary for any starting employee, but this offer was beyond her wildest dreams. They were offering her a starting salary nearly twice the highest offer she had seen given to any student at Furinkan. She also understood Yoshioka's position. If she performed well, he was in for a very promising promotion in the near future, something that might double his yearly take on his commissions.  
"So are you going to accept, Tendou Nabiki?" Yoshioka asked in a soft voice, his eyes following her every move in a way that made her blush slightly and her heart start beating fast in her breast.  
"How can I not?" she asked. "I'd be a fool to pass this up." She smiled at him and reached for the pen and quickly signed her name at the bottom. For some reason, that single act made everything she had ever done in her life seem worth it. Everything she had gambled and given up to become who she was became right and proper with only a few strokes of her hand as the heavy pen with gold inlay left a trail of dark ink that formed the kanji of her name.  
As she finished signing, she looked up to see Yoshioka Satoru regarding her with a speculative look. It was a look that offered more than friendship and a mentor, and Nabiki found herself oddly excited by the prospect. Nabiki met his gaze evenly with a hint of challenge in her own and lifted her glass of wine in a small toast. Yoshioka lifted his drink and clinked it against hers. "To a long partnership," he said.  
"Hai, a long and profitable one," Nabiki added, and then took a sip of her wine. Yoshioka finished off his drink and called for another as he smiled over at Nabiki, who quickly finished off the rest of her wine and called for something a little stronger. They were both enjoying themselves immensely when the food arrived at their table.   
  
-- 2 --   
  
  
The hazy remnants of the day's smog and the bright glare of the city lights blocked the view of the stars from the world, but Saotome Genma still watched the night sky. It didn't matter if he saw the stars or not, it was the memories that came with the activity that he found most comforting. There had been a time when he would lie next to his son and watch the beauty of the night sky unfold in front of their eyes, Ranma's quiet voice questioning in his ear. Even now, he could hear it, nearly eight years later.  
"What's that one, Otousan?" Ranma asked, pointing at a group of stars.  
For a moment, Genma followed his son's pointing finger and frowned at the stars before he could discern their form. He knew none of their names, but it was of little consequence. He made up the names and fit them to what his son saw. "That's Ryukaze, the Wind Dragon. See the five stars that line up and the three above and the three below. The five are its body and each set of three its wings."  
For a moment, his son was silent and then he spoke again, "I see it! It does look like a dragon, but why is it attacking the one that looks like a cat."  
"That's the Tiger, and he and the Wind Dragon have faced each other since the beginning of time."  
"Why?"  
"Because they are rivals. When the kami created the floating world, they put many creatures upon it and they all vied to be the most power- ful. So they fought for their places, and in time many found their place in the world. The Crane was the noblest, it's carriage of the emperor, and the Fox was the most clever."  
"But what about the dragon and tiger?" Ranma asked impatiently.  
Genma smiled at his son and continued to make up the story as he told it. "They both wanted to be masters of the world, and so they fought across the floating world. Neither could become the stronger though. The Tiger was the master of the shadows. The lurker who waited in patience and stalked his prey with cunning. The Dragon was free and powerful, striking boldly at his enemies. They're equal because of their differences and still war to this day, but the gods have forbade them to fight on the earth, so people fight for them."  
"Who do we fight for?" Ranma asked.  
"We have always fought with the Dragon because he is like our style, power within grace, beauty in function. But if there is one thing to remember it is that Ryukaze walks the world in plain sight, letting all the people judge him and see what he does, both good and bad. You must become what is good and show those around you by your example. Do not seek to be like the Tiger who walks alone in the darkness, stalking and hunting what he most desires. That is not our way."  
"I'll always follow Ryukaze, Otousan," Ranma promised. "He is how Okaasan wants me to be, and I can't disappoint Okaasan."  
"No, son. You must never disappoint your okaasan," Genma whispered.  
Lifting his hand, Genma traced the path of stars where Ryukaze should have been. He had never learned the real name for the constel- lation, and didn't think there was one. But, Ranma had always watched those stars and promised his father to be like Ryukaze. He himself had not followed that star though. He had turned to the Tiger long ago. He wished he could say it was done to give his son everything he deserved, but the truth was not so self-effacing. Not even his tutelage under Happousai had placed him on the wrong path, he'd already begun to tread it when he left his father's house to find himself.  
It had been a noble quest. He was going to wander Japan and train his body and soul in the Art, become one with the Art and thereby become the best martial artist of his time. Then, he would carry on his family's school with honour and flair, but at some point the dream had gone awry. He had not found the truth. He had found the debauchery of the soul in his travels, stealing and tricking to gain food, women, and the other things he desired. He might have fallen if Soun had not found him one night, drunk in a tea house, moving the pieces about the shogi board as he played himself. Soun had taken a seat and began to play him. Drunk, he found himself losing, and so did the natural thing and cheated. Soun caught him and they began to argue, their voices and words growing louder and more insulting with each epithet cast back and forth. It was not long after that he found himself facing off with Soun, the game and the drink forgotten.  
A friendship had been formed that night. They had found respect for the other when neither could gain the upper hand in their duel. Instead, Soun had brought him to his home and showed him his dojo. Both of them had been young men in their early twenties then. They were obsessed with the adventure of being a martial artist, and they pursued that adventure with the relentless tenacity of a wolf tracking it's prey. With Soun as his friend, Genma began to find the path he had originally set upon, one of honour and self-sacrifice. Yet that was not to last.   
In time, they found Happousai and fell in with him. His promise of teaching them the true arts was too tempting a fruit to let pass by. Eagerly, they joined, and in the years that followed they came to regret their decision, Genma more than his friend. Under Happousai it was easy to revert to his old ways, for his master was of the same mindset. Genma tried to walk the straight and true for his friend's sake, but once they sealed the fool away, they separated. Soun to marry Kimiko, and Genma to wander the world once more.  
Only his courtship and marriage to Nodoka had broken him of his self-destructive habits like a twig from a branch. Her influence waned over the first years, and the twig became a cutting. When he had found his roots once more, he took his son away from her to continue the quest he had begun as a young man. It was no longer a quest for his own improvement, but for his son. He tried to make his son everything that he had failed in over the years. And despite all of the setbacks, the failures, the underhanded dealings, and treacherous ways he had exposed his son to, somehow his son had followed the star of Ryukaze over the years and become what Genma had never become, a truly honourable man.   
He was not perfect, but then Genma knew that was his fault as much as anyone's. He would never admit it to anyone. His failure was hidden. Many knew him to be a cheat and horrid parent. Others had accused, often justly, of even worse. Ranma was his only success in his long and dark life. In Ranma, he was able to come out from underneath the shadowed trees and look upon the world as an equal because he had made Ranma who he was.   
Genma clenched his fist in anger, knuckles cracking painfully in the tight grip of his heavy hand. He could never take credit for his son's successes. They had been gained through his son's hard work and his son's dedication to the Art. If anything, Genma was only responsible for the faults within his son. And now, his son had run because he had made the wrong choice for him once again. He didn't care what Tendou said or his daughter begged of him. He had betrayed what his son held most precious, and that had caused him to run.  
Raising his back from the grass, until he was resting on his hands, Genma watched the reflective surface of the koi pond. He was a meddle- some father who should have never been allowed to raise a child. He truly deserved to become the panda that the Jusenkyo springs had so aptly cursed him with. Or maybe it wasn't so much of a curse, as a blessing for him. As a panda, he could escape his follies as easily as a child hides from the darkness by running to his parents' bed.   
Standing up, he walked to the pool and looked deep into the dar- kened depths, the pool appearing to be bottomless in the darkness of the night. When his son had been unconscious, fighting for his life, he had refused to become the panda that allowed him escape. Nothing of such magnitude held him now, but he felt as if he were betraying his son as he reached and submerged his hand in the water. Maybe if Ranma came back some day, he'd change his ways and make Ranma a better man by not allow- ing him to make the same mistakes he had, but until then, he wanted nothing to do with the real world or Ryukaze.  
  
-- 3 --  
  
  
Sipping her tea as she knelt at the low table, Kasumi watched as Saotome-ojisan slinked in from the garden as a panda. He gave her a grunt in acknowledgment before he disappeared down the hall to the guest room. Kasumi smiled a little in return, but his back was already turned, his massive, furred shoulders slumped as he shambled out of the dining room. For a moment, Kasumi wondered why Ranma's father spent so much time in his cursed form. During the time Ranma had been under that horrid curse, he had stayed a human as much as possible, but now he was spending more and more time as a panda. Sometimes, she preferred him as a panda. As a human, he had become despondent and uncommunicative over the past few days. It was depressing to a house that had seen little to smile about in the past weeks.   
No matter how bad Saotome-ojisan's problems were, Kasumi found them minuscule and unimportant next to her own dilemma over her sister's pregnancy. Ever since Nabiki had figured it out earlier in the night, Kasumi had been unable to get the subject from her mind. It was not only the fact that Akane was pregnant, it was the guilt she felt for not approaching her sister earlier. She had known something was wrong with Akane, but had dismissed it as side-effects of Ranma's abrupt departure to locales unknown. Even if she had not put the clues together, she should have noticed that Akane's moods in the past week had been too extreme for merely missing someone.  
She was also angry and disappointed, not at herself but at Akane. She was angry because Akane had not told her about such a life changing situation, and she was disappointed in Akane for even allowing herself to take a chance at becoming pregnant. Both emotions were confusing to her. She knew Akane was not wholly at fault, but she couldn't bring herself to exonerate her youngest sister completely. This dichotomy added to her guilt like a stream to a river.  
Although she had every right to be angry with Akane for hiding her condition, she realized that Akane had most likely acted out of fear and tried to keep everything in close confidence until she could understand and deal with it. It was a dangerous path to tread, but Kasumi knew she would follow the same one if their places had been reversed. If the truth were to be known, she would have terminated the pregnancy. Despite her deepest desire to be a mother and have a family of her own, the shame that would be brought on her family by being an unwed, teenage mother would make her choose that course. That had to be the reason Akane kept her pregnancy hidden, but it still didn't excuse her for getting pregnant.  
Kasumi silently berated herself. Akane had done nothing wrong. The fault lay in herself. As the care giver, it should have been her duty to instruct Nabiki and Akane in the facts and risks of having sex. She had explained to them all about their periods and what it meant and had gone into a little detail about sex, but she felt uncomfortable discussing and warning her sisters about something she herself had never exper- ienced. So, she let them discover on their own. Besides, there had not been much risk of either of them becoming serious with anyone. Even when Ranma came to live with them, Kasumi had found his presence to be a non- threatening one. He and Akane fought too often and too violently for a moment of intimacy to take on the proportions needed for them to become physically intimate with the other.   
Yet it had happened, and now the consequences had to be faced and dealt with. But how did she approach the situation? Was she supposed to simply give Akane the love she needed and let the rest pass? No, she couldn't do that. She had to give Akane love and support but make it as clear as daylight that she was disappointed in her, if not for becoming pregnant, then for at least hiding the truth from her family. It was knowing that Akane had not trusted her and hidden the truth from her that hurt the most. Akane had never kept anything from her before.   
What had happened to them, she asked herself silently. Sighing in frustration, Kasumi set down her tea. Worrying over it now was tanta- mount to trying to recook burnt fish. She had to talk to Akane and help her. She just didn't know how to approach her. Nothing she had ever encountered had prepared her for this moment of her life. She was terrified that she would do something wrong, that she'd come down more like a hammer than a comforting quilt. She didn't want that. She wanted Akane to trust her again.  
The sound of the front door opening and the creak of floor boards distracted Kasumi from her thoughts. "Akane," she called out hopefully, "is that you?"  
There was only silence and a few more steps in response, and then Kasumi heard a small voice, but she couldn't make it out. "Hello?" she called, a little fear in her voice.  
She was about to call her father when Nabiki stumbled into the hallway and began to walk down the hallway, her steps unsteady. "Konban- wa, O...nee...chan," Nabiki stated her eyes traveling the room like an errant butterfly before latching onto Kasumi. A smile broke across her face like the new morning sun and Kasumi found herself in her sister's arms as she hugged her tightly and then pulled her to her feet.   
"Nabiki?" Kasumi asked inquisitively, curiosity and worry vying for prominence.  
"He said yes!' Nabiki stated and then laughed as she hugged Kasumi tightly again. "He's going to help me, and he gave me a job. A dream job, Oneechan!"  
"Nabiki, you're drunk, aren't you?" Kasumi observed as she caught a whiff of Nabiki's breath.  
Dropping her sisters arms, Nabiki shrugged and sank to the floor. "Just a bit. I didn't drink that much, but I've never felt this good." Nabiki smiled again, and for a moment Kasumi thought she was seeing Akane's bright face. Their personalities were so different that even Kasumi sometimes forgot how much Akane and Nabiki actually looked alike.   
Nabiki's enthusiasm, much like Akane's, was infectious, and Kasumi found herself smiling at her sister. "I'm glad you're happy, but you still shouldn't drink so much."  
"O-nee-chan," Nabiki tsked, pushing herself back to her feet, "always trying to make sure we don't do anything wrong. I was just celebrating. It's not everyday a girl gets offered a once in a lifetime deal...besides Satoru-san was buying." Nabiki grinned and headed for the stairs. "I think I'll go work on some of my books. I don't think I'll get any sleep tonight."  
Before Kasumi could think of a response, Nabiki hurried up the stairs and then disappeared into the hallway that held their rooms. Shaking her head, Kasumi returned to the table and her cooling tea. At least, someone in the house was having their life go right for a change. Although she was curious as to the source of Nabiki's joy, she knew she'd find out tomorrow, when she was back to her normal, collected self.   
Glancing once more at the stairs, Kasumi stood up and went into the kitchen where she began to heat the water in the kettle. Like Nabiki, she wasn't able to sleep, but for very different reasons. She still didn't know what to do about Akane and knew she'd be up most of the night trying to decide.  
  
-- 4 --  
  
  
  
"I'm home!" Akane called out as she closed the door behind her and slipped out of her tennis shoes. Walking down the entry hall, she frowned as only silence greeted her. "Hello?"  
"In here."  
Stepping quickly, Akane turned into the main hall and went to the dining area. Her father was sitting outside, watching the clouds dally in the brilliant, blue sky. "Ohayo, Otousan," Akane greeted her father in a bubbling voice.  
"Ohayo, Akane-chan," Soun nodded his head and then smiled. "You are in good cheer this morning."  
"I had a great time at Mio's last night, Otousan," Akane explained. "She makes all my problems just disappear." Seeing no one else in the house that she could share her happiness with, Akane went outside and knelt beside her father. From the corner of her eye, she saw that her father was watching the sky with a distant, speculative gaze. A slight breeze brought a hint of his cologne to her nose. It was the same one he had worn since she was a child, the same cologne she had loved to smell when she wrapped her arms about his neck and kissed him good morning before her mother died.   
In a moment of nostalgia, Akane unwound her legs from beneath her and leaned against her father's side, feeling the soft weave of the cotton gi he wore when instructing his few students. She was surprised when he draped his arm across her shoulders and pulled her closer until her head rested against the right side of his breast, the distinctive odour of sweat informing her that he had just finished his morning workout. For a time, she relished the closeness.  
"None of this has been easy on you, has it?" Soun asked quietly, his eyes never leaving the sky.  
"Hai," she whispered in response. The gentle rise and fall of his chest lulled her senses, reminding her of being held gently in Ranma's arms as his voice caressed her ears with meaningless affections.  
"I pushed you into this," Soun said in a thoughtful voice. "I wanted so much for one of you girls to marry Ranma. I wanted to preserve this house and the school forever. Maybe I should've thought more about what you felt, instead of what I felt. Or I should have cared more for your good than the good of the school."  
"Otousan..."  
"Shh..." A finger on her lips silenced Akane's denial. Soun turned his eyes downward as Akane glanced up in surprise. "Despite what you might think, I would have let you out of the engagement at anytime, if you had protested enough. But I always thought you didn't mind and fought with Ranma only because you were being forced and desired me to see that."  
"I really didn't like him at first."  
"But?"  
Akane smiled and dropped her eyes from his loving gaze as she settled into his arms again. "But what?" she asked impishly.  
"You love him, don't you?" It wasn't a question, and when Akane kept her silence, it was answered in spite of that. Akane felt the back of her father's rough hand caress her cheek. His fingers brushed an errant strand of hair into place. "When Cologne cursed Ranma, I saw that you cared deeply for him. It was the first time I had. Before, I only saw your fights and hoped that they just hid the truth, but it had been going on so long. I was going to let the promise go, but when you stayed by his bedside when he was in the hospital, and again when he was slowly dying, I knew I had been right in making you stay engaged to him."  
"Thank you," Akane whispered. "I just wish he was here."  
"You made the right choice, Akane. He didn't deserve to die. I was so proud of you. The way you fought for him, and made Saotome-kun see he was wrong." His hand cupped her chin and lifted her eyes to his. "You've always made me so proud of you." Kissing Akane's forehead, he hugged her tightly once more before releasing her and rising to his feet. "Would you like to spar?" he asked Akane as she watched him with wide eyes on the verge of tears.  
She could only nod her head and then smile as he did. "I'd love to, Otousan. Just let me get changed."  
"There's no rush," Soun said. "We can spar after lunch." But Akane was already rushing up the stairs and she didn't hear her father's words. She was running on air as she bounded up the steps. Her night with Mio had washed most of her fears and cares away with both tears and laughter. Even being sick in the morning hadn't broken her mood, and now her father's offer to spar on top of a heart-to-heart talk that she'd never had with her father before was making her giddy with excitement.   
She barely looked around her room as she rushed into it and began to throw off her clothes as she searched for her gi. She found it quickly and pulled it on, tying the black belt around her waist as quickly as she could. She was ready in under a minute and was heading for the door when her sister's voice halted her.  
"Akane-chan? Can we please talk?"  
"Oneechan!" Akane exclaimed as she spun around. Kasumi was sitting on the edge of her bed with a serious expression. "I didn't even notice you."  
"Then you don't mind if we talk?" Kasumi asked, smiling a little.  
Akane started and then shook her head. "I'd like to, Oneechan, but I was gonna spar with Otousan." Akane didn't want to talk with her older sister. It was difficult for her to explain why. She felt uneasy and guilty because she was keeping secrets from her sister. At some level, she knew that the tightly held secret of her pregnancy would slip from her tongue faster than Ranma could talk himself into a corner.  
"I think Otousan won't mind waiting for you. He just finished his workout, and he probably needs a little rest."  
"Hai," Akane answered, unable to think of a conceivable excuse to get her from the room. Placing a carefree smile on her face, she walked over to the bed and sat down next to her sister. "What did you want to talk about?"  
"I just want to talk, Akane-chan," Kasumi said, a smile painting itself across her face. "You don't seem to want to speak with me any- more. I worry about you. Especially, when I know you are having some problems, and you won't talk to me about them." Akane started at Kasumi's words as her eyes snapped to Kasumi's face and encountered a sad expression. Guiltily, Akane lowered her eyes. "I just want to know what is happening to you. Is everything okay, Akane-chan?"  
Akane stared at her hands which were clasped in her lap. Telling her sister that everything was okay would be useless, and she did not want to lie outright to her beloved sister. Akane knew that Kasumi had held her the night she came back from her meeting with Tsujimura-sensei. She had probably even noticed her discomfort in the morning and her withdrawn moods. Denying everything was the wrong course, but she was terrified of telling the truth. "I'm scared, Oneechan. I can't stop thinking about and worrying about him." It was not a lie. She had been thinking of Ranma a lot in the time since he left, but for different reasons.  
A prolonged silence fell between them. Akane watched her hands, trying to memorize every line and curve of them. She could hear Kasumi's light breathing. From the next room, she could hear Nabiki moving around and getting dressed. Her sister's stereo suddenly began playing some music and then became garbled before settling into a single signal as Nabiki found an acceptable station. The music drowned out every other sound, and so the silence was bearable for Akane.  
"Did you know I talked with Ranma before he left?" Akane shook her head. "I was making breakfast when he came in to get some food. Do you know what he told me?" Again Akane shook her head, though she had a glimmering of what he might have said. "He told me he was going to make sure Cologne couldn't hold him to that promise. He also told me that he talked to you about it, Akane-chan. I'm sure he made sure you under- stood, isn't that right?"  
Akane nodded her head.   
"You didn't like it though?"  
Akane was silent. Ranma had a reason for leaving, a very good one. She understood that and, in a way, accepted it, but that didn't mean she liked it. With him gone, it left her alone to deal with her problem. She wanted him by her side to help her through this and give his blessing on her decision to keep the child. It was easy to allow anger to replace the emptiness she felt, and as she dwelled on Ranma's departure while trying to answer Kasumi's question, that anger grew and coupled with her frustration and emotional instability to give birth to her outburst. "He could've stayed!" she shouted. "I don't care about his honour. I just wanted him to be here. I did everything I could. It was the only way to save him!" She clenched her fists tightly, twisting her skirt. "I was willing to give up everything!" For a moment she paused and then whispered softly, as if to herself, "Why can't he?"  
"Is he really not giving up everything, Akane?"   
Nabiki's voice brought Akane's head snapping upwards. Her sister was standing in the open doorway in her usual cutoffs and t-shirt. "What are you doing here?" she asked in a surprised voice which quickly became guarded. "Could you please leave us alone, Oneechan? I..."  
"Don't want me to hear your secret?" Nabiki said with a small quirk in her lip. Stepping inside, she closed the door behind her and took a few steps into the room. "Well, if you don't keep your voice down, then I don't have to be here." Nabiki was intentionally prodding her younger sister. Her anger from the last evening had slowly turned into a gut wrenching worry that had kept her up despite her slight drunkenness. She wanted her sister to see how stupid and dangerous keeping secrets like this was.   
"Nabiki," Kasumi said quietly, "I think Akane is right. This'll be easier with just one of us."  
Nabiki turned on Kasumi her eyes wide. "You haven't told her!"   
Kasumi shook her head as Akane glanced back and forth between her older sisters, confusion on her face. "Told me what? What's going on? It's not about..." She didn't finish the thought as a weight descended on her heart like a landslide smashing into a stand of trees.   
Kasumi reacted quickly, her arms pulling Akane close and whispering comfortingly into her ear while giving Nabiki a hard glare. "Nothing has happened to Ranma, Akane-chan. Nabiki's talking about something else."   
Nabiki cringed under her sister's glare. She was used to people throwing her looks that would make most grown men shiver, but the disap- proval in Kasumi's eyes was more like a physical blow. She took a step back to the door, deciding that it was easier to let Kasumi handle this. If she tried to deal with it, she knew she'd just hurt Akane more than she already was.   
"Wait," Akane said, her eyes wet with unshed tears, stopping Nabiki's retreat. "What did you mean? What do I have to be told?"  
"Why don't you tell us?" Nabiki snapped without thinking, ignoring Kasumi's urgent motion to desist as she continued with her accusation. "You're the one keeping the secret."  
Akane's eyes went wide as saucers and began darting about for an escape route, her expression that of a cornered animal. "How? I didn't. I didn't know how...didn't know what to do," she whispered in a horrorfied voice.  
"So you did it this way?" Nabiki said. "You could get yourself in trouble. You could have been hurt. Or maybe left alone. Did you want that?" Akane shrank under each accusation, pulling herself tighter against Kasumi who wrapped her arms about Akane. Nabiki missed it. She was seeing her sister alone trying to care for a child so her family wouldn't be hurt by it. The stupidity of Akane's pride, much like Ranma's, infuriated her, and she was letting that anger show. "Well, I love you too much to let that happen!"  
"Nabiki!" Kasumi's voice, crisp like the snap of a whip, brought Nabiki short as she took in a breath for her next string of accusations. For the first time, she saw Akane holding tightly onto their older sister, silent tears spilling down her cheeks.  
"I-I-I" Akane never finished as she began to sob softly into Kasumi's shoulder.   
Each sob wounded Nabiki because she knew that they had been caused by her and her alone. She took a hesitant step forward. "I'm sorry, sis. I didn't mean to say it. I was just so mad when I found out. We were both so worried about you." Nabiki put a hand on her sister's shoulder, feeling it shudder beneath her touch. "But I still love you."  
"We both do," Kasumi assured Akane softly.   
"I-I was afraid," Akane said between gulps of air. "Afraid you'd be mad at me and disappointed in me. I'm sorry. I just didn't know what to do! I didn't want Ranma to hate me."  
"I doubt he'd do that," Nabiki stated glibly. "He'd do anything for you. I know. He even tricked me into doing his work here for him."  
"Really?" Akane asked, her eyes sparkling and her voice incredu- lous. "He tricked you?"  
"Don't spread it around," Nabiki stated miserably. "He pulled a fast one. It's one of the reasons I figured out you are pregnant. And that is why we're here to talk to you. Trust me when I say Ranma's coming back, but you're more important right now. We can't do anything for him, but we can help you. Ne, Oneechan?"  
Kasumi nodded and smiled at Nabiki. The obvious concern and affection Nabiki had for her younger sister was heart warming to Kasumi. For some reason, that little exchange had told her that she had not done as bad a job as she had thought in raising her sisters. "Hai, we'll be here for you, Akane," Kasumi stated as she turned to face Akane. "That doesn't mean I'm not displeased with you. You shouldn't have hidden this from us. You're part of this family, and I don't want you pushing us away."  
"You're not mad?" Akane asked hopefully.  
"I wish you would have waited or taken some precautions," Kasumi sighed. "I'm not mad at you, Akane-chan. But I do want to know what you're planning to do."  
She gave her younger sister a pointed look, waiting for an answer. Akane bit her lower lip in indecision, trying to decide how to answer the question. She didn't want to lie to her sisters, but she hadn't had time to decide what she ultimately wanted to do, so she decided to tell the full story. "I went to see a doctor about an abortion," Akane replied, keeping her eyes downcast so she missed her sister's surprised expressions.  
"So you're getting an abortion?" Nabiki asked, a hint of approval in her voice.   
"Iie. I wanted to, but I can't. I want Ranma to make the decision too." She glanced up and turned to Kasumi, looking for vindication. "I don't want him to hate me. If I have the abortion and he wants the child, he'll hate me forever. I can always have one later if he doesn't want the baby."  
"I think this is your decision," Nabiki said, Kasumi nodding in agreement. "Ranma will do anything for you. If you want the kid, he'll care for it no matter what, and he'll probably reinstate your engagement." Nabiki smiled. "He's stubborn that way."  
Akane shook her head. "I want him to decide. I'm not going to force him to do something he doesn't want." She was silent for a moment and then spoke in a whisper. "I want him to love me, not be honour-bound to be with me for the rest of his life. If he can do the same for me, then I can do the same for him."   
Wordlessly with a tear in her eye, Kasumi kissed Akane's forehead. "I'm so proud of you, Akane-chan. You are finally growing up."  
Akane smiled a little at the compliment and then her face took on a look of pure terror. Nabiki noticed and asked her, "What's wrong?"  
"Does Otousan know? You haven't told him, have you?" There was a note of panic in her voice.  
"Do you want us to tell him?" Kasumi asked. "I think he'll surprise you."  
Akane violently shook her head. "Iie. I can't let him know. Not now. Not until Ranma comes back. I-I-I..." She gestured obscurely, trying to make a point she didn't understand but only felt.  
"I'll let you tell Otousan when you're ready," Kasumi promised.  
"Well, for a small fee..." Nabiki said then put her hands up in a defensive position as Akane clenched her jaw in anger. "Just kidding, sis. I won't tell anyone. I'm not going to let you get hurt over your small problem. Of course, you're on your own with Kasumi."  
Akane gave Nabiki a questioning look and then turned to her older sister, who was smiling. " You need to learn some things if you're going to be a mother," Kasumi stated and then smiled. "Namely how to control your temper and how to do a few more domestic things, like cooking and managing a house."  
Akane's brow darkened and then a smile lit her face as she grabbed Kasumi in a tight hug. "Thank you, thank you, thank you. I won't disappoint you. I promise!"  
Nabiki decided to make a hasty retreat before her sister decided to share her enthusiasm, but before she could, Akane scampered from the bed and grabbed Nabiki in a tight hug. "Thanks, sis."  
"No prob," Nabiki said, trying to keep her composure. She felt her ribs creak under her sister's brute strength. "Ugh, Akane..could you... uhh...loosen...erp...your grip!" she managed in a last explosion of breath. The pressure loosened, and then Akane was looking at the ground sheepishly.   
"Gomen," she apologized, "I sometimes get carried away."  
Nabiki just smiled as Kasumi spoke again. "Didn't you say you were going to spar with Otousan?"  
"Oh! I almost forgot!" Akane quickly checked herself to make sure she was fully dressed and then headed for the door. As she opened the door, she looked back into the the room. "Thanks!" she cried, and then she was out the door, her light steps a flutter on the stairs before she hit the floor and continued outside.  
Inside the room, Nabiki watched the door, and then turned to Kasumi, who had a worried frown on her face. "Sometimes she's so much like a little girl," Kasumi said softly. "I wonder if she is ready for this."  
"No," Nabiki commented, "she's not ready, but you can help her. You did a good job with us." Then Nabiki was gone, leaving Kasumi staring in stunned pleasure, a few tears of happiness glistening on her cheeks.  
  
-- 5 --  
  
  
  
Sugiera Mio rinsed the last bowl and set it in the drying rack before she turned off the water and dried her hands on a towel. Turning her back on the sink, she packed her two younger half-brothers' bento boxes. For some reason, they had insisted on rice balls and some sweet pastries for lunch. Like always, her father had given in to their whims, and she had been forced to stay up late and make them. She didn't hold it against her younger brothers, but her step-mother, who refused to take any of the responsibilities around the house, and her father's insistence that his wife had enough work to do with her own job.  
Closing the bento boxes, Mio placed them on the side of the counter and washed her hands again before shucking the apron and hanging it on a hook in the closet. Loosening her hair from the braid she put in when cooking, she shook out her fine brown hair and sighed. "Ryuichi! Taichi! Get up!" she called into the main house. "Your lunches are on the counter. I'm heading off to school. Ja matta!"   
She heard some mumbled replies from the hallway on her right. It would be at least ten minutes before her brothers were ready to go to school. Grabbing her school bag, she began to make her way to the door when he father's voice stopped her. "Musume." Mio flinched slightly. She knew she should have been used to it by now, but she had always hated it. Her father refused to use her given name and had only called her 'daughter' since she entered puberty. "Your mother is busy this morning. Take your brothers to school."  
Sighing in defeat, Mio's shoulders slumped as she responded, "Hai, Otousama." There was no acknowledgment and Mio slowly made her way to her brothers' rooms. Without a doubt, she knew there'd be trouble and she'd end up being late for school. Her brothers would be fighting or would refuse to listen to her. It also didn't help that their grade school was in the opposite direction of Furinkan.  
This had happened before and she knew what to expect. What made it worse was that it had nothing to do with her step-mother's job. She worked in the afternoon and evening. No, this meant her step-mother was either recovering from a hangover or her father had decided that this morning was a good time to reacquaint his wife with her marital duties. Mio made a perfect scapegoat to indulging in either of those.   
Entering the short hall where the bath and her room and her brothers' rooms were, she walked to the oldest's door. Taichi was eight and she knew he'd be playing video games. Opening the door, she wasn't surprised to find both Taichi and Ryuichi playing a fighting game on their Sony Playstation, both still in their pajamas.   
Mio wanted to scream in frustration, but she knew it was useless. If she lost her temper, she would be the one to get in trouble, and she was not about to give her father any reason to discipline her. She had to do it another way.   
"Ohayo, Neechan," Taichi said as he glanced up from the game and then back to it, finiding it more interesting than his older sister.  
Mio walked into the room. She just wanted to get to school where she didn't have to deal with her family. She just wanted out of her home.  
It took Mio nearly fifteen minutes to get her brothers dressed, and another ten to get them out the door. By the time they had reached their grade school, the boys only had three minutes to spare, which meant she was already late. Dropping them off, Mio slowly made her way to Furinkan, unable to summon the energy to make herself get their earlier so she could hold buckets of water for that much longer.  
She arrived three-quarters of the way through her first class and walked into the room and up to the teacher. "Gomen nasai, Sensei," she said bowing her head. "I am truly sorry for being late."  
The teacher turned to face Mio, his dark eyes barely acknowledging her as he nodded his head, making his unruly hair flop to one side. "I'm sure you are. Now go stand in the hall."   
Sighing, Mio went to get two buckets. As she left the room, she glanced in into the corner and saw Akane staring at her with a panic- stricken look on her face. To Mio, it appeared as if Akane was about to start crying. That was not like Akane, but Mio didn't have time to wonder about it as the door shut behind her. She promised herself to ask Akane when the teachers switched classes.  
Of course, when the bell rang to signal the end of the first period, Mio was pulled aside by the sensei, who wanted to know why she had been so late. She gave her explanation and he nodded and told her he wouldn't put it on the attendance record. Sighing in relief, Mio walked into the room and settled in her seat behind Akane, but the bell rang before she could talk to her friend.   
When she had walked into the class, she had noticed that most of her classmates were snickering and talking under their breath to each other. Yuka, one of Akane's closer friends, was keeping her face buried in a book, but from the look of it, Mio doubted she was reading. It also worried her when Hiroshi, the one guy she actually respected, caught her eye and motioned imperceptibly towards Akane.  
Turning to look at her friend, Mio had to force herself from rush- ing to Akane's side. She was a wreck. At least to Mio, she appeared to be a wreck. They had known each other so long, that they recognized the other's moods automatically from the smallest hints. Akane was seriously troubled, her eyes darting around looking for a way out, even though she kept her head down.   
As the class progressed, Mio could hear the constant whispering, and saw a few notes passed to Akane. She generally read them and then crumpled them. Only one, sent by Hiroshi, she actually kept, folding and placing it in her schoolbook. Mio sent Akane a note trying to find out what was wrong, but she got no answer from Akane, who only shook her head as she read the note.   
Toward the end of the second period, Akane received another note. She let it stay on her desk for several minutes before she finally opened it with trembling hands. A moment later, Mio heard a strangled sob from Akane, and the people around them began to titter quietly, the teacher oblivious at the board. Akane turned away from the class to stare out the window, her shoulders shaking. Worried out of her mind, Mio leaned forward and saw the note lying open on the desk. Even from this distance she could make out the large characters, and it made her sick as she read it. 'Every slut gets knocked up once.'   
Anger filled Mio like a raging fire that burned across a grassland in minutes. She turned to face the class, her eyes blazing. She had never been this angry before, and most of the class that was looking at Akane cowered under her gaze. Only Raiko didn't turn away. She was watching with glee in her eyes. As she saw Mio staring at her with daggers in her eyes, Raiko grinned like a Cheshire cat and then winked.   
Mio turned away, and silently reached around the side of her desk and fumbled for Akane's hand out of sight from the others. As she grasped it, Akane squeezed her hand tightly, and Mio silently tried to give her friend as much support as she could. "I'll always be here for you, Neechan," Mio whispered, her words full of the love she had always held for Akane. For a moment, she feared her whisper had been to low for even Akane to hear, but two reassuring squeezes on her hand cast aside her doubts like the worry-induced paranoia they were.  
To Mio's intense delight, Akane underwent a metamorphosis before her eyes. Straightening herself in her desk and lifting her head to look straight ahead, Akane calmly swept the note from her desk like so much rubbish. Though Akane's face was hidden from Mio, it was without doubt that Akane was facing the world with an expression more appropriate on Nabiki than her own. Despite Akane locking herself within the confines of her mind to banish the incessant whispers around her, Mio knew each titter, each off-colour joke whispered just loud enough for Akane to hear twisted the knife that her love for Ranma had placed in her fragile heart.  
It was apparent to Mio that Akane was suffering. During the break between classes, her words were cordial, nearly verging on her normal bubbling exuberance, but her eyes could hide nothing from Mio. She saw the forlorn, hopeless expression in her friend's face. She wanted to pull Akane into her arms and comfort her. More than anyone she knew the pain from being considered less than dirt, a burden on the family, a laughing stock. Her father treated her that way. Her father who had never given her a kindly word in her life.   
Before the thin thread of resistance broke within her, the bell forced Akane to resume her stony aloofness and endure the last two hours before the lunch bell gave her the freedom that Akane desired and Mio desired even more just so she would not see that wretched look ever again.   
It was an eternity, burning in the flames of the classroom, before the noon bell gave her relief like water did a man in the desert. Standing and gathering her books, Mio turned to find Akane watching her with an expression that would have brought a blind man to his knees in compassionate tears. As their eyes met, Akane gave Mio a sickly smile to reassure her friend.   
"Would you like to get some lunch?" Akane asked and then, as an afterthought. "Off campus?"  
Mio nodded her head. Although it wasn't allowed, most students could slip away, and Mio was less than enthused about staying at Furinkan for lunch. "I'd love that, Akane." She gave Akane a radiant smile and stepped up next to her, ignoring the smirk on Raiko's face as they both left the room.   
They walked in silence, Mio unwilling to say anything that might cause Akane to do something she wanted to avoid. Mio admired the strength it took her friend to walk calmly through the halls of Furinkan, her head held high as the rumours spread around them faster than gasoline takes a flame. Akane was in control. Her raging emotions held beneath a stony exterior of disdainful haughtiness and ignorant oblivion. To many it appeared as if a queen had condoned to walk among the filth that littered her streets. To Mio, it was a nightmare. She was seeing Akane nearly nine years earlier, walking from the room her mother had just died from, sitting quietly through the eulogy three days later and never once uttering a sound, never once letting fall one tear.  
They traveled the grounds, avoiding everyone. It was several long minutes later that they were both walking down the bustling streets of Nerima. Around them the world played out its daily ballet of life, each player weaving in an out in a delicately balanced dance of life and death. Birds trilled from telephone poles, and people talked around restaurant fronts, their voices filling the air with an indecipherable babble of noise. Several times Mio tried to add Akane's and her own voice to that babble, but each time she began to call her friend's name, Akane would shake her head slightly. Finally, they came to a place Mio had only been a few times, Toufu-sensei's clinic.  
On a burst of inspiration, Mio pulled Akane inside. She knew Toufu- sensei was her family doctor, besides she needed to talk to Akane, and she knew what was going to happen when she did. Akane would never forgive her if that happened in public.  
Akane neither protested nor encouraged Mio as she was dragged into the comforting warmth of Toufu-sensei's waiting room. Once inside, Mio smothered Akane against her, wrapped her arms about her, and whispered, "I'm so sorry, Neechan."  
For a time, Akane only held tightly to Mio, and then the words flowed forth in a torrent. "It's not fair," Akane whispered. "It's not fair. Why are they doing this? Why!?" Her voice rose with each word and Mio backed away until Akane was at arm's distance.  
Mio loved Akane more than anyone who had ever entered her life. If there was a doubt on whether Akane returned those feelings, it had never surfaced. Akane would never hurt her intentionally, but that did not mean she was reckless enough to run the gauntlet of Akane's anger. She had witnessed first hand the collateral damage brought about by Akane's deepest rages against Ranma and Kunou.  
"Do they understand!?" she screamed. "None of them do. How can they do this to me? How!? I hate them!" Her face twisted into a burning mask of anger and berserker rage. From the corner of her eye, Mio saw the door to the examine room open and Toufu-sensei step into the room. "I never did anything to them! Nothing! It's not fair." Her voice broke and the anger disappeared in a wail as she lurched forward and latched tightly onto Mio. "I didn't want this. Can't they see that?" Her voice broke into incoherent sobs and Mio lowered them both to the ground, rocking Akane as the storm of her grief and anger surrounded her.  
"They're all laughing, looking at me, talking about me. They've always talked about me. I just wanna be left alone. Why can't they leave me alone? It wasn't my fault!" Mio turned her face up in a pleading entreaty as she sought out Toufu-sensei. "I didn't do anything wrong. Nothing. I just loved him. Only loved him and he left."  
"He didn't leave you," Mio assured her.  
"It doesn't matter. He's gone, and now they're laughing. I hate them...hate them so much...hate myself...I just wanna die."   
Shock and anger vied for control as Mio heard those words. She didn't know what to say, what words would soothe the suffering and agony that was consuming Akane like logs thrown on the fire. She only knew one thing, that Akane didn't deserve this. Throughout her life with Akane, she had seen her only trying to fit in with her peers, to become one of them instead of the outsider she had always been. She never tried to be special, she just was. Her unassuming nature and her inability to be anything other than who she was drew people to her like a herd to a drinking hole. Like the saint who worked for only the good of God, she didn't want the attention and following she received. The countless boys following her she detested. Yet the female population of Furinkan did not see it that way and allowed their petty jealousies to ferment and age like a fine wine until it was opened and intoxicated the entire school.  
They had only needed the one spark to ignite the fires, and Ranma's departure and Akane's pregnancy had given them the ammunition needed. Mio hated them. Could they not see the truth behind the matter? They did not see the anguish Akane endured, the heartache she had suffered. They did not see the beauty behind a tragic story of love. Did they feel compassion? Only a few, and the rest, in their oh so human way, saw only a weakness that they could use to vindicate their imagined insults. Akane was right it wasn't fair. Not to her. She did not deserve the pain of the whispered taunts, searing more than acid splashed across the face. Mio understood. Mio knew the pain Akane felt in her heart. She had lived with it for her entire life. That feeling of emptiness, loneli- ness, the feeling that no one cared for you or wanted you. Only Akane loved her. She was all Mio had, and to hear the words, "I wanna die," burned in her with the intense heat of a star's core.   
"Don't say that. Never say that." Mio demanded sharply. "They're all wrong. They don't understand. Who cares about them anyway? You're all that matters, Neechan. Your family loves you. Ranma loves you. I love you. What about us? We need you. I need you. Do you want Ranma to come back and just find a silent grave! Do their words mean that much to you?"  
Akane shook her head. "Iie, but it still hurts. It makes me feel worthless. Like I did something wrong."  
"You did nothing wrong, Akane-chan." For a moment, Mio was surprised. She had meant to say those words, but it was not her voice. Glancing up, she noticed Toufu-sensei standing over them both like a protective awning, his hands gently holding Akane's trembling shoulders. "You did nothing wrong. Neither you or Ranma. It might not be the best decision, but it is not the wrong one. I'm sorry if I made you think that, Akane-chan."  
"Arigato," Akane whispered, still holding tightly to Mio. "It's not your fault. It's just not fair. It's none of their business."  
"I know," Toufu answered, "but that doesn't stop them from making it their business. You just need to put it behind you. Trust in your friends and your family."  
"It's so hard," Akane nearly whimpered. "I can't stop from hearing their words. I can't stop wondering if they're right."  
"They aren't!" Mio snapped. "Don't listen to them, Neechan. They're nothing. I believe in you. That's all you need to know. Toufu-sensei's right. It's only your friends and family that matters. They're not your friends. They've never been. They treat you like they treat me. Just some interesting plaything."  
"Maybe. I just thought..."  
"I know, Neechan. Betrayal always hurts. Come back with me and face them. Show them you don't care," she pleaded with Akane.  
Akane shook her head. "I can't. Not now. I...I need some time to think. Please just go back without me."  
Mio nodded her consent. She thought it was a mistake, but she knew it was nigh impossible to change Akane's mind on any given subject. If Akane stayed away from school without a reason, the rumours would spread even more, but she wasn't going to force her into facing the same gauntlet she had faced that morning. Akane was strong enough to overcome the standing she had lost that day. She needed to find her strength again, though, before she could do it.  
"Toufu-sensei?" Mio asked tentatively. "Could you give me a note so that Akane has an excuse to miss class. Just so no one can take it wrong."  
Toufu was silent for moment and then nodded his head in acceptance, adjusting his glasses on his nose as he backed away. "I'll think of something. Besides I need to talk to Akane for a while. It'd be better if she stayed here with me."  
"Arigato," Mio and Akane responded at the same time, Mio's more enthusiastic than Akane's soft whisper.  
"Let me get that note," Toufu said and walked to the reception desk as he began to write out an excuse slip.  
As he did that, Mio bent down to Akane and hugged her reassuringly. "I'll make sure Raiko gets what she deserves. I just know she started this. I'll find a way to make her pay." Akane only nodded her head, her eyes distant as f she were searching for someone. Sighing, Mio gave her friend a quick squeeze and stood up as Toufu-sensei returned with the note.  
"This should excuse her for a few days, if she wants to take the time off." He handed the note to Mio who folded it and slipped it into her bookbag. Bowing to Toufu-sensei, Mio gave Akane a reassuring smile and left the clinic, fully intent on making sure that Raiko got what she deserved.  
  
-- 6 --  
  
  
Nabiki twirled the pencil through her fingers before stopping it with thumb and forefinger and snapping it in two. Her gaze, cool and calculating turned on her two assistants, Kumi and Yoko. "Who started these rumours?"  
Yoko shook her head, the dark braid of her hair swaying slightly from the barely perceptible motion.   
Kumi, on the other hand, spoke up. "It's hard to tell, Boss. There are about twelve different rumours, and each leads back to a different person. The other problem is that people aren't talking much to me or Yoko. They all know we work fro you. I had to push several people to even tell me who they got it from. The only definite thing I know is that the three with any semblance condening realtionship originated from Sakura, Masuka, and Kaneda. I haven't been able to talk to either of those three."  
"Sakura, Masuka, and Kaneda..." Nabiki tapped one of the pencil halves on the table the three of them were seated around. She knew those three well, but they didn't hang around with each other too often. In fact they all more than disliked the other, so who was their common link? Sakura hung around with Nagai Raiko most of the time, but Raiko detested Masuka. Masuka had stolen her boyfriend three months ago, but before that they had been very close friends. Kaneda on the other hand was unrelated to any of them. He spent most of his time hanging out with Yoshioka and the other jocks. There had to be a connection between them. The only one she could think of, though, was that they all disliked her younger sister.   
"Nabiki?" a tentative voice asked from behind her.  
Although she was startled, Nabiki slowly turned around to see who had interrupted her meeting. To her surprise and relief, she saw her sister's friend Mio standing a few feet from her table. For a moment, Nabiki watched Mio and then frowned. She had meet the girl many times, but knew little about her. The one thing she did know was the Mio was very shy and rarely made her presence known. She was supposedly the most even-tempered student at Furinkan. On acount of this, as she examined the girl, Nabiki was struck by the rage-filled determination she saw in Mio's eyes. It reminded her of the look Ranma had worn when she had consented to help him.  
"What can I do for you, Mio?" Nabiki asked, sitting down on the table. "I'm a little busy, but I can make time for my sister's friend. So what can I do you for?"  
"I want you to humiliate Nagai Raiko," Mio stated in a matter-of- fact tone.  
"Humiliate?"  
"I don't want her to ever be able to show her face in this school without being laughed at and derided by everyone!" Nabiki backed away from the cold rage in Mio's words. For a moment she knew that if Raiko had walked up to them, she would have been torn limb from limb by the gentlest girl in the school.  
For a moment, Nabiki wondered what had brought this on, but it only took her a moment to figure it all out. "Is this about Akane?" Nabiki asked carefully.  
Mio nodded. "She started this. She's the one who spread all of the rumours. She just did it because she hates Akane. She just wanted to get back for that thing a few weeks ago. Raiko deserved that! Akane doesn't deserve this. She hurt Akane. I want her to hurt ten times more than what Akane is feeling right now! I want her to know what it feels like!" Tears spilled down Mio's cheeks as she spoke, her voice rising with each word.  
Nabiki could understand the feeling. When she first heard the rumours that morning, she almost slapped the person who mentioned it. She had restrained herself, holding herself instead to doubling every interest rate in her books and giving no leniency for anyone who came close to her during the morning. The fact that she couldn't find out who had discovered the truth simply infuriated her more. "I'm listening," Nabiki said grimly.  
"I don't care what it takes, or how much you ask," Mio said softly. "I want her to be an outcast. I'll give you anything. Anything! Just make her pay."  
"Anything?" Nabiki asked, raising her eyebrow quizzically.   
"Hai," Mio answer in a confident voice.  
"I could ask for anything, and you'd have to meet my terms."  
"I understand," Mio said her voice trembling a little. "I'll do anything for Akane-chan."  
Nabiki smiled. "I guess I can't refuse a deal like that, can I?" Nabiki turned to stare at her two silent partners.  
"It's a once in a lifetime deal," Kumi said.  
"A veritable fortune on a platter," Yoko added with a smile.  
"True, but I don't want money. I want you to do something for me." Nabiki turned back to Mio. "You'll do anything, ne?"  
"Anything," Mio whispered, her eyes lowering.  
"Then never tell anyone that you asked me to do anything, and go take care of my sister."  
Mio's head snapped up in surprise. Though she knew that Akane loved Nabiki, she had expected to be charged for Nabiki's unique services. For the first time in her life consorting with the Tendou's, she had one of her firmly held beliefs shattered. But wasn't it always the distant ones, like herself, who kept the deepest pools shrouded behind protective shells?  
"Arigato," Mio said. "Arigato, for Akane."  
Nabiki gave a dismissive wave of her hand, a small quirk on her lips. "She's my sister," Nabiki said, as if those words explained everything. "Ja mata."  
"Ja mata," Mio said and walked away.   
As Mio disappeared from sight, Nabiki turned to face Yoko and Kumi. "I want everything you can find on Nagai Raiko. I want a way inside Miss Pretentious' defenses. I don't like ti when people mess with my family. Especially my sister."  
"Consider it done," they both said in unison. Yoko immediately stood up and left, her face filled with determination. Kumi, however, remained behind. Nabiki had already turned away and was chewing on one of the ends of her broken pencil. She had not noticed Kumi yet, so the girl coughed to get her attention.  
Nabiki turned her head and gave her partner an irritated and disapproving stare. It passed quickly though, and Nabiki took in a deep breath and slowly exhaled it. "What is it, Kumi?"  
"I wanted to know, Boss, about the rumours. You know...if they are true."   
"Does it matter?" Nabiki asked.  
"No and yes,"  
For a moment Nabiki smiled at her partner's evasiveness. It fell from her face quickly though. "They're true."  
"Then why..."  
"Why do I do this when I do things just as bad?" Nabiki finished.  
"Hai."  
"Have I really ever done something that was permanent to anyone? Have I destroyed their reputation for no reason other than I didn't like them? Did I ever do it to someone who didn't deserve it?"  
"Ranma"  
"He's different. He doesn't match any game or any rules. My sister does though. Besides this entire thing is different. You know I kept quiet about Sachiko's and Kaori's abortions, don't you? Even though they owed me nearly twenty thousand yen a piece? People might think what I give out is life-threatening, but it isn't even important. They think it is. This is important. The way they're treating my sister is going to affect her for the rest of her life. Who cares about a girl that dumps a boy because he was cheating on her and I told her? Who cares if I catch you stealing? Who cares if I make you pay your gambling debts? That is just junk, Kumi, and you know it. This is different. My sister is having a baby. She wants it, and is keeping it because she loves Ranma. It sickens me that Raiko would use something like that to hurt my sister, and to do it by fabricating almost all of the story from what little she knows. Do you understand?"  
"Hai, Boss. I understand perfectly." Kumi gave Nabiki an eager smile and then turned and started to walk away, her gait easy and fluid. "I'll find something that will make her suffer for the rest of her life," she promised.  
"I'd like that," Nabiki whispered with an evil glint in her eye, but Kumi was already out of ear shot and missed what her boss said.  
  
Author's Notes:  
  
--Translations-- Relations: Otousan/otousama - father Okaasan - mother oneechan/neechan - older sister ojisan - older man or uncle obasan - older woman or aunt obaba -affectionate name Shampoo oves to her grandmother hiibachan - grandmother musume - daughter  
  
Others: Soo-desu - It is so Hai - yes Iie - no zabuton - the pillows that Japanese kneel on when they are at a table or in many seiza positions seiza - position of kneeling shoji - rice paper doors, light and airy. Shogi - Japanese form of chess gomen/gomen nasai - sorry arigato - thank you ne - a term similar to Right? Or eh? Or huh? Denotes question basically ja mata - well, again... sort of like see ya later'  
  
I didn't use all of them, but I m trying to compile a section of commonly used words in my fics...   
  
Comments:  
  
At this time I now declare my rambling about life, the unvierse, and everything, including this story, open and on a full swing.Of course it would be more helpfull if I actually had something interesting to say. It has come to the point where mty writing doesn't need explanation. Does that sound arrogant? I'm sorry if it did, I just find that evertyhing is explained rather well in this chapter. Oh sure there are loose ends, but it wouldn't be me writning without loose ends. Hw many plots do I have floating around? Heck I can't even count them, I just know how it fits together. Sort of like a blind man putting a puzzle together, ne?   
Well i'm not completely blind, though if I keep staring at this computer screen I'll probably go blind. Hopefully it won't become as bad as Mousse. That'd be bad since I work construction. I can see it now. "Hand me a hammer...." I pick up a flamingtorch and hand it to him./.. Oh god the worker's comp on that one...ouch. Anyway, that isn't important. What is important is that I got another part to this story. I swear it is groing in size faster than a cancer... I do see and end tomthis chapter though. Three, maybe four mor parts and I'll be on to Ch 6, then we're off and running again. Oh stop groaning. I've told you. I'm using this fic to improve my writing skills. I won't give up until I find a decent ending, which I already have, I just have t get there, and my writing becomes spotless...or a sspotless as possible without suddenly learning every grammatical rule and exception within the English language. Anyway, I'm going to be signing off now. Maybe I'll be able to step up production on this. I don't know for sure.  
School starts soon, and I might have more time then, but then again, I have a lot that I have to deal with.   
  
Note: The Legacy is just sitting on the backburner. I've just not had time to look at it recently. I'll get to it though. Don't worry.  
Until next time  
Joseph A. Kohle  
  
Watch for the Next installment of MASN.  
Chapter 5 Separate Paths Part 6 Divergent Crossings  
  
You notice my titles make less and less sense. Transient Foundations? Divergent Corssings? What next, Glowing Darknesss?  
  
----*----*----*----*----*----*----*----*----*----  
All rights and priveleges to Ranma Nibunnoichi   
belong to Rumiko Takahashi. The characters of her   
series are used without her permission for the   
purpose of entertainment only. This work of fic-  
tion is not meant for sale or profit.   
  
All original characters are the creation of the  
author. All copyright privileges to these chara-  
cters are reserved for the author.  
  
This story is a product of the author's hard work   
and imagination. Do not modify, add to, or make   
use of any part of this work without the author's   
knowing and written consent. Please feel free to archive   
this work.   
  
Comments and criticism are welcome.   
Written by Joseph A. Kohle, (c) 1997.   
Send all comments to Ashira@worldnet.att.net  
Find some of my fanfics at   
http://www.geocities.com/Tokyo/Flats/6184/index.html 


	19. Vol 4 Chap 6

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	20. Vol 4 Chap 7

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	21. Vol 4 Chap 8

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DISCLAIMER: Ranma Nibunnoichi is the property of Takahashi Rumiko, Shogakukan Inc., Shonen Sunday Comics, and Viz Video. It is used without their permission and is not intended for profit but only for the enjoyment of fans of the Ranma series. All characters within this fic that are not the property of the above mentioned are copyrighted to the author, Joseph Kohle, January 1997. This work of fiction is the result of the author's hard work and is for the enjoyment of others. Please do not change, modify, or use any segment of this story without the author's knowing and written consent. Feel free to archive this work.  
  
************************************************************************   
  
Meiyo Ai soshite Nikushimi  
  
A Ranma Nibunnoichi Fanfic  
by Joseph Kohle   
Chapter V Separate Paths   
Part VIII: Sisterly Love  
  
~~1~~  
  
"It has been a pleasure talking with you, Kuh Lon-san," Morimoto-san said. He bowed respectfully to the older woman who was still seated at the table, his slicked back, thinning hair never moving. His two younger associates mumbled their own courtesies as they left the store. "I hope we can come to some understanding. Mishimata Land and Holdings has a few small interests in this area."  
With a second, polite inclination of his head, the negotiator turned on his heel and left the restaurant. In his wake, the room retreated into silence, only the fading sound of the tinkling bell above the door and the soft scrape of the closed sign against the front door intruding upon the stillness.  
Cologne watched the closed door with an unreadable expression. Reaching into her robe, she produced her favourite pipe. Clenching it between her gums, she searched for her tobacco.   
She had met with the representatives from Mishimata once, two days ago. In the first meeting, their eagerness to obtain the property she held was blatant. For some reason they desired the Nekohanten, but it was one that she was unable to fathom. Mishimata was a very large company that made deals for tens of billions of yen. So why go after a small noodle shop? It was for this mystery that she had allowed the go-between hired by Mishimata to even arrange the first meeting.  
She hoped to wrangle a large amount of money from the deal with which she could pay back the tribe and Shampoo's father. Like a school girl on her first date, she was enraptured by the fantasy of what could be. For the first time in many decades, she missed the pitfall and fell heavily into her date's lecherous arms.  
Though they were eager, they were reserved. Though they were obviously prepared to make an offer, they constantly tip-toed around it as if it were a sleeping parent who would ruin all the fun. Instead, they traveled the road of every Japanese negotiator, the path Cologne found to be detestable. They bantered words and tried to build the relationship between the two like a host and parasite. As empty as a spilt pitcher, their courtesies were filled with phrases such as 'lifelong partnership', 'delicate balance of ideals', 'upsetting the local structure', 'maintaining the proper decorum', and 'the proper timing for the next step.'  
She knew what words like those meant. And the meaning was not one that pleased her. The best hope of ending the charade quickly was to offer Mishimata a reasonable price. That, however, would put her at a major disadvantage. If too high they would walk away, and she did not have the time to find another client. She was held by Ranma's pledge to meet in Hong Kong in two weeks. Yet, if she gave into a lower price, the money of the tribe was lost. Such a situation was unacceptable.   
Finding the small bag of tobacco, Cologne poured some into the empty bowl of the pipe, tamped it down, and lit it from a candle on the table. Puffing contentedly, she tried to examine her options, but felt like she was scraping the bottom of the pot.  
It was easy to consider letting the Nekohanten go for a loss, but her pride and the Amazon tribe, especially her clan, would never allow such a weak way out. To let the Japanese have their way with her was beyond her ability to stomach. Even if it took three months, she was not going to give in and allow them to waltz away chuckling at her naivete and weak will. But that still left her with the dilemma of Ranma.  
To believe that Ranma would wait patiently in Hong Kong for two or three months was like assuming a four year-old could watch over a candy store. Someone had to be there to meet him. She was unable to go. Although she could hire someone to finish the negotiations, she was not willing to accept that she could not win by herself. Leaving her great-granddaughter behind to act in her stead was also an unwelcome proposition. Although Shampoo was a great warrior, Cologne was not going to delude herself about the girl's intellectual gifts. But was sending Shampoo, without supervi- sion, to meet Ranma a sane course of action?  
Shampoo was capable. If entrusted with a duty, she would see it accomplished. Cologne was confident that Ranma was beaten, but anything concerning the youngest Saotome involved a fair degree of unpredictability. A watchful eye was required to keep any plans pertaining to Ranma on track. Like an unruly gremlin, his presence more often than not caused the train to derail.  
To complicate an already volatile situation, Mousse was unaccounted for in the equation. Although it was impossible to prove, Cologne's intuition told her that Mousse was with Ranma. Cologne remembered the promise she had wrung from Ranma. "As long as the promise can be held, I'll hold it," he had promised.   
She was displeased with the choice of words. They were too ambiguous. They implied that Ranma was working against her and was never willing to accept his fate. With the disappearance of Mousse and the delays with selling the Nekohanten mounting, she could see more challenge in Ranma's promise than honourable sincerity.   
Anyone under Ranma's tutelage would grow in strength and skill. With a month, Cologne, herself, could turn Mousse into a fighter of great skill. Ranma was intelligent and skilled enough to make Mousse better than Shampoo. Although there were flaws in the idea of pandering Shampoo off to a new suitor, Mousse's defeat of Shampoo would make it that much more difficult to make sure that Ranma was either a member of the tribe or no longer a blemish on her Clan's honour.  
Yet, even without the threat of Mousse's challenge of Shampoo, Cologne was unwilling to allow her great-granddaughter to be alone with Ranma for the near month it would require for them to complete the trek to the village. Ranma held a power over Shampoo, like that of a snake over a small animal. Within Ranma's presence, Shampoo's common sense bleed out of the base of her skull as her vascant smile of delight filled her eyes and face. In sucha state, Shampoo might be easily manipulated into doing things she would normally haughtily dismiss. Actions that could lead to the end of her plans. If Shampoo pitied Ranma's plight... if her great-granddaughter's spirit was broken... if she let slip the truth about the Judgment she had placed upon Ranma... if...  
There were too many unknown cards in play. And now there was the new one of Akane, or, more importantly, the girl's forthcoming blessing. It was imperative that Shampoo never learn of that predicament. It was only sheer luck that her great-granddaughter had been making deliveries when the group of girls from Furinkan entered the Nekohanten. The pregnancy of the Tendou girl by her jilting fiancee had been the only words upon their lips. To keep that knowledge from her great-granddaughter, she had closed the Neko- hanten the next day. The restaurant had served its purpose.  
It was one more worry. If Shampoo discovered it, Cologne did not know what would happen, but if Ranma discovered that fact... Cologne shuddered. Promises and honour would be come as binding as gossamer silk for Saotome Ranma. That he loved the Tendou girl was evident. Yet, as far as Cologne could discern, his honour still held a higher place in his ideals. But if he unearthed the truth about his lost beloved? No, it was better if he never found out. For that reason, Shampoo was kept in the dark. For that reason, she needed someone to watch over Ranma and Shampoo on the way to Joketsuzoku.  
She needed someone she could trust. Someone skilled in the arts and a master of pressure points was the only possible choice. She needed an Amazon. Cologne began to smile around her pipe. Her old friend Hyu Chin was in Hong Kong. Maybe it was time to call in old debts.  
A simple message carried by her pigeons, and her problems would be laid to rest, or at least put under control. Now, she could deal with the Japanese and the Nekohanten. Besides, another company had made its intentions known. Maybe she could play them off each other.  
Satisfied, Cologne continued to puff on her pipe until the embers within blackened and became cold. Then she knocked out the ashes and made her way upstairs to her room. For the moment, all of her plans were back in her hands and the stings of each puppet firmly within her control. All she had to do was wait out the inevitable.  
  
~~2~~  
  
On the outskirts of Nerima, nearly three miles from the grounds of Furinkan, the outer wall of the sweeping estate of the ancestral home of the Kunou family stands in all its majestic glory. Although it was no longer the nearly hundred acres of land on which the original home had stood, the remaining seventeen acres compromised an immense estate for the present day Japan. It was the envy of many of the rich about Tokyo, but, for the Kunou family, it was almost a mark of shame.  
Kunou Tatewaki remembered that the estate had been nearly four times it present size when he was only six. Under the immeasurable talent of Tatewaki's father, the Kunou family had been rebuilding toward the preeminence it had held at the induction of the Meiji Emperor. Talent that Tatewaki wondered about as he closed the door to his father's Hawaiian retreat. Kunou Tatewaki relaxed visibly as he finally shut out the sickly- sweet miasma of flowers and ripening fruit as well as the discordant music of the ungodly islands that had ripped the last vestiges of sanity from the once great Kunou patriarch.   
Scowling at the heavy, wood door as if his disapproval would change the present and past, Tatewaki spun on his heel and left his father to his insipid pastimes. His father was a disgrace to the family and its ancestry. If any one would have asked Kunou, he would have gladly informed them of his samurai heritage, the power his family had held as a trusted daimyo of the shoguns, his ancestral relationship to the Fujiwara's. Yet, what did such things matter to people these days?   
Like his father's sanity, Tatewaki had slowly watched the prominent position of honour decline in society until his classmates rarely dealt with it or referred to it as a dated practice. They did not care about the samurai status of his family. They only cared about the wealth that had been attained through an arranged marriage, in the mid-eighteen hundreds, with a wealthy merchant searching for samurai status.  
His steps ghost-like, Kunou padded down the long hall and then turned into the main hall that led to the dojo. After every meeting with his father, he needed a release. Kendo gave him that sense of peace. It focused his thoughts back from the insanity of his family to the harsh reality of honour. The honour of the family. The honour of his school. His personal honour. Each gave him a place within the world. Each defined a segment of his life. They were his foundation, a pedestal on which his sanity was protected in a carefully crafted cage.  
High pitched, frantic laughter suddenly filled the air, and Kunou shuddered despite of himself. He despised his sister's laugh. Her presence alone drove him to distraction. He knew she should have been committed years ago, but his father was too weak-willed to sign the papers.   
The last four weeks of peace had been a blessing. She had been in Europe, causing trouble which he knew had drained nearly a hundred million yen from the family accounts. Of course, it was nothing to the Kunou fortune, but he found it disgusting that their wealth was spread around to keep his sister abnormally eccentric instead of insane. At least she had not found out about Tendou Akane's disposition by that low-brow, lecherous, slovenly-dog of a coward, Saotome Ranma. "Sasuke!" Kunou snapped.  
An instant later, the diminutive ninja was beside him, crouching as he waited for his instructions. "What may I do for you, master Kunou?"  
"Are you aware of the fair Tendou Akane's delicate disposition?"  
"If you mean her preg..."  
Kunou's heavy hand silenced his servant and sent him sprawling into the far wall. "Never mention that word in my presence, Sasuke. My fair Tendou Akane is merely indisposed for the present, and will be until such time as I may find the appropriate course of action to bring her from her depths of depression and into the light of true and joyous love. Do you understand me?"  
"Hai, Master."  
"That is well. I wish you too keep this delicate matter from the insane attention of my deranged sister. How you do it is of no moment. As long as she is kept as ignorant as Saotome is honourless, I will be pleased with your performance."  
"I will do my best." Sasuke bowed deeply.  
"See that you do. You are dismissed."   
Kunou barely noticed his servant's departure. He was already lost in his own thoughts as he continued down the hall. He had learned of the situation with his reluctant future bride at the same time as the school. In truth, the horror and shock of the statement had forced him to seek solace and safety in seclusion. He wanted to refuse the truth of it, but his beloved herself had admitted as much to him when he had asked her.   
Kunou growled to himself as he remembered her words. She had told him, nay, commanded him to let it lie. It was none of his business, acoording to her. And, in a moment of weakness, he had proimised to accept her decision. But he could never do that.  
The entire situation was disgusting, almost criminal. An innocent girl was being preyed upon by the miscreants of the school, and by the demented lechery of Saotome himself.   
For a moment, he wished he were Odysseus. A true master of extracting himself form the darkest and direst of situations. Kunou regrettably needed the assistance. He saw no clear way out that would save his beloved's honour, unless of course Saotome returned from his amorous adventures in China to take up his honourble duty. Yet that solution was as unacceptable to him as any other.  
If there was just a way to do it, he would succor her with the honour of the Kunou line. If she was under his wing, none of these slights and arrows would be able to penetrate her. Her sea of troubles would become a placid lagoon on which she might idle her life away.   
But, maybe there was an answer in that. If the money of the Kunou's made insanity into eccentricity, then could it not also cover up a dishonour. A few doctors spoken to. A few records changed and a simple ceremony, but he would need to approach her. He would need to make her see the truth, no matter how painful it might be.   
It was so simple that it was obviously the reason the answer had eluded him, like the fox does the hound, for the past week. Pleased with himself, Kunou Tatewaki called for Sasuke again and ordered him to get him dinner, scroll, and ink. He had much work to do before Sunday if he was to save his beloved Akane. And he would save her, even if he had to break her of all her hopes and dreams.  
  
~~3~~  
  
"How are you doing, Akane-chan?" Toufu asked as Akane settled onto the examination table.  
"Tired," she replied mechanically. Her eyes wandered the room, picking up the small details of the immaculate white cabinets, the syringe next to the sink, the box of rubber gloves, the chart of the human body, Betty-chan. Each item was categorized and forgotten in an instant.  
Toufu frowned at Akane's vacant gaze and defeated posture. The last time he had seen her was when Akane's friend Mio had brought her to him. Akane had left that encounter only a little better than she had entered into it. That fault lay with him like an unwelcome bed partner. Although he was schooled in family medicine, his specialty was chiropractic medicine. As if Kasumi were about, he was fumbling to deal with Akane's circumstan- ces, at home, at school, and mental, and his abilities to answer her needs were very limited, if not non-existent.   
Sorrow hung about her like a cloyingly, fragrant perfume. He was unaware of the pain in his own eyes. Akane had come to him so many times over the years for advice, comfort, and medical treatment, that he had come to think of her as a part of his life, a daughter he hoped to have in the future. It was true that he was close to the Tendou's, but his relationship with Akane was a much deeper friendship, that might have become love if he hadn't fallen for Kasumi.   
Unsure of the proper course of action, he fell back on his own skills as a doctor to make sure she was healthy. "Please look at me," Toufu requested. He put a gentle hand on Akane's shoulder as she faced him. Toufu lifted her chin and looked into her eyes. They were like glass, without life or the vibrance that dominated Akane's personality. "How so?" Toufu asked, turning her head to one side and then the other.   
"I don't know," Akane whispered. "I'm just tired."  
Her words validated what Toufu was seeing. Her skin was paler than usual, almost waxy in appearance. Dark circles hung ponderously beneath her once vibrant eyes. Lips, slack as a flag on a windless day, barely moved as she spoke. Exhaustion was part of the reason for her appearance, but it did not account for her inattention.  
"Are you eating well?" he asked absently.  
She shook her head. "I get hungry during the day sometimes, but I can't do anything about it. My teachers won't let me out of class. I'm not hungry at dinner very often, so I just eat enough to make Kasumi happy. In the mornings, I'm always sick in the mornings, and I just don't feel like eating."  
"Whether you feel like it or not, you need to eat, Akane," Toufu admonished in a stern voice. "If nothing else, just take some snacks with you to class. Later, you'll settle into a pattern, but now your body is trying to adapt to the pregnancy. If nothing else, it will settle your morning sickness. Your sick because you are not taking care of yourself. Just because getting pregnant is natural, does not mean that surviving the pregnancy is. You're just making it harder on yourself if you don't eat and sleep properly."  
"I know. It's just..."  
"Just what?" Toufu prompted gently. Snaking his ankle about a chair, he dragged it to the table and settled himself in it. Unconsciously, his hand combated the jitters in Akane's voice by engulfing her small hands like a luxuriant, warm bath. "Is it school? Or something else?"  
"I don't wanna talk about it. There's nothing I can do, so why should I worry about it? It's just like everything else that is going on. I don't have control of it. I don't know what to do.   
"Nothing I can say would make them shut up. Most of the girls are laughing at me. They think I deserve this." A tear crept down Akane's cheek, reflecting the harsh fluorescent light. "The boys aren't any better. They all think I deserve it because I led them on. They can't even admit that they are mad because I never went out with them!" Akane shouted. "Why can't they leave me alone? It's not fair. I never wanted any of that. I didn't want this!" She looked pointedly at her flat stomach and began to shudder as the stress, loneliness, and memories of the past week were ignited like a coal shot, each blast of emotion triggering another.   
With imploring eyes, she gazed up into Toufu's face. The misery her body exuded was palpable. Reaching out, it sank its powerful claws into the gentle doctor's heart and forced him from his chair to reach for the trembling girl.  
Like the soft wings of an eagle do her young, Toufu's arms enfolded Akane. As he began to rock her as if he were cradling an injured bird, Akane clutched at him. She was almost oblivious to him until he whispered, "Shh! It'll all be okay. Everything will be okay."   
Akane went rigid in his arms.  
"No! It isn't alright! It'll never be!" she spat vehemently as she shoved him away. Surprised, Toufu stumbled over the chair and almost fell to the ground.  
"You were right the first time. You were right from the beginning! I don't want a baby. I can't handle this. Being here is just a waste of time. I don't know why I even came," she finished in disgust.  
Akane stumbled from the examination table and marched toward the door.   
"Akane-chan," Toufu pleaded. "This isn't like you. Let me help. Give me a chance to understand what's going on, so I can help you."  
He was relieved when she shuffled to a halt, but she didn't turn around to look at him, preferring to stare hopelessly at the door as if it held the answers to all of her problems. For a moment, she envisioned herself just closing a door behind her and blocking out everything as she curled up in the dark.  
"Help?" she demanded. "You already helped me, and I ignored it. I should've listened to you in the first place, Sensei." Her voice dipped to the small whimper of a child faced with her mistakes. "I was scared. I didn't want to do the wrong thing, but I did it anyway. I can't handle this. I should've had the abortion. I should get rid of it."  
"Akane-chan. I was wrong," Toufu pleaded. His initial advice had been that of a concerned doctor. He hadn't even considered the fact that Akane herself needed support and a helping hand. She had come to him for help, given him the chance to lead her safely through the dark forest, but he had sent her off into the waiting jaws of the wolf. After she had left, his twinges of guilt, like the insistent drip of a water faucet, forced him to call Tsujimura and beg with him to convince Akane not to have the abortion. He didn't want her unhappiness running across his hands like the blood of the innocents.  
But he had turned her away. Told her in no uncertain terms that she was not ready to deal with a pregnancy. Psychologically, he was correct. Akane had some issues to resolve, many involving Ranma, but not all. Medi- cally he was unsure. She was healthy, more than healthy, but recently... recently she had been sick as if her spirit were being drained.   
His diagnosis had been that a pregnancy was just too much for Akane. Maybe if he had told her his reasoning she would have reacted better, but her wants and desires had been chaff in the air to him. At a time when she needed someone to tell her everything was going to turn out alright, when she had been searching for the missing harbour, he had mistakenly become a submerged reef.  
"I should have never told you to have an abortion. I had no right to, and I made a terrible mistake. I was wrong."  
"No, I was."  
Certain that Akane was about to walk from his office, most likely forever, Toufu leapt across the intervening space with two large steps, grabbed Akane by her shoulders, and spun her around to face him. "You were not wrong. I was. Why can't you accept that? Why do you keep torturing yourself when you don't deserve to suffer?"  
Akane's eyes widened in shock, and then she began to shake her head. "Then why is everyone leaving me? Why do they all hate me? Why do they laugh and snicker when I walk by? Why am I pregnant? Why did Ranma leave? Why!?"  
"Akane, he had..."  
"No, I made him go away. I made him go away." Her eyes were shimmer- ing, and her voice became the anguished torment of an Inquisitioner's client. "Just like my mom. They all leave me. I... I... How can I deserve them if I can't even make tea?!" she demanded irrationally.  
"Akane..." No words could ever ameliorate the torment of the hell Akane spun for herself with each new day. Akane needed someone, but he was unsure whether he was right for the job. He had been her doctor for nearly ten years, and his sensei had been her doctor since birth. Instinctively, he wanted to comfort her and banish the pain from her eyes. Like a father, he desired to shield her form the harsh reality of the world. Yet he held himself in check.  
It was not the fear that he might become too involved with her. He was simply wary of assuming he could offer her what she needed. In all likelihood, he doubted that anyone could offer what she desired more than breath itself. At the end of the tangled cord of her problems, lay the one undeniable uncertainty that had shadowed Akane's life since her mother's death. Someone had to tell her that she was making the right choice. Her decisions demanded validation, but Toufu could not give that validation anymore than an atheist could administer confession.   
"Akane-chan," he spoke soothingly, forcing his voice to remain calm while holding back the frustration threatening to shatter his tenuous grasp of the problem. "You have every right to feel betrayed. You have every right to think this is your fault, but it isn't. Your mother never abandoned you." Akane shook her head in denial. "She got sick. It was no one's fault, especially not yours."  
A sound like a cat dying rose in Akane's throat.   
"Ranma didn't abandon you, did he? He left to stay with you. And why do you care what any of your classmates think? You never made a wrong choice, you made the choice that was the right one. You choose the one your heart said was right, didn't you?"  
"You don't understand," Akane whispered.   
"Then make me understand. Why is it your fault? Why do you deserve this? What horror haunts you?"  
Angrily, Akane opened her mouth only to be struck dumb. Surprise filtered across her face, and she slowly closed her mouth. The determination and fear in her face collapsed like a levy during a flood. For a moment she was a boat spinning out of control, the lone occupant hanging on with a desperate panic. Her shoulders crumbled, and she sank soundlessly back against the door and pulled her knees tightly to her chest. She was the frightened child whimpering on the far corner of her bed, searching for her security blanket as the closet shadows danced.   
Worried, Toufu knelt beside her and was surprised to hear her mumbling low under her breath. Pitying the poor lost child, he gathered her in his arms and began to gently rock her. Her voice gained clarity as he held her.   
"...taking chances, playing with her so roughly. 'Kaasan told me not to do it. She told me to stay away from the river, but I wanted to play. It was so much fun. I would run along and pretend we were on a raft heading for the ocean. We'd find a beautiful island and everything would be perfect. Mom would stop coughing. Dad would pick me up and spin me around like he used to."   
She fell silent for a moment and Toufu felt her shudder in his grasp. Stroking her hair, he saw a tear slip from beneath her scrunched eyelids. His thumb brushed it aside as if it were a smudge of dirt.  
"I... I didn't see it... the branch. I never saw it. I just tripped and fell... in the mud. Everything was numb, and I didn't know why. I pulled myself to my feet... and I wasn't holding her. She was gone! My doll was gone. The doll 'Kaasan had sewn for me.  
"I was frantic. I looked everywhere, but I couldn't find her. I just couldn't! I should have listened to 'Kaasan. I should've, but I didn't, and my Machiko was gone.  
"I started crying. I couldn't stop, but I continued to look. Then I saw something in the river. It was fluttering on the rocks down stream. I hurried toward the shore, hoping it wasn't red, as long as it wasn't red, but it was. Machiko. She was in the river, but she was on the rocks.   
"I didn't think. I just plunged after her. I was running through the woods. Brambles tore at my dress. I knew 'Kaasan would be mad, but if I lost Machiko, I didn't know what I would do. The stream was shallow there. I sprinted out into the water, but I didn't make it. She was just on the edge of the rocks, and then she was gone, the water carrying her away from me and into the deep part of the river. I kept screaming for her to come back, but she never did. She just disappeared. I couldn't do anything. It was my fault. My fault... I... Machiko, please come back. Please. I'll be a good mother. I'll be good. Don't go, Machiko! Machiko! MACHIKO!"  
An anguished sob broke through her whispered story, and Akane buried her face in Toufu's chest. "I killed her!"   
Although her words were muffled by his body, Toufu still heard them, and he stroked her silken hair as he whispered meaningless comfort in her ear. Though useless as fighting the tide, a familiar voice was often the best anyone could offer to ease a battered spirit. It was all he could do. Her ranting had delved deeply into her psyche and opened a door Toufu had never even known existed.  
Akane cried in his arms, and he rocked her. For the moment, his world revolved around those two simple actions. He whispered to her, rocked her, and comforted her as she cried into his gi, her tears whisked away by the rough material. Eventually, the choking hiccups lessened and disappeared into small whimpers and then disappeared as she held tightly to him.   
"I'm sorry," she sniffled. "I never used to cry like this. Everything is just so new. I want my life back. I need... I need someone to understand," she begged.  
"I understand, Akane-chan. I want to help you. No one deserves this, especially you, but I can't help you, unless you help yourself." Placing her at arm's length, Ono Toufu fixed her with a steady gaze. "Whenever you're ready to talk, we'll talk."   
She nodded her head, and Toufu began to lead her gently to an answer as they talked.  
  
~~*~~  
  
Mio was engrossed with a magazine as she waited when Akane stepped into the waiting room. Glancing up at the sound of foot steps, she gave Akane a shy half-smile of encouragement. Returning the smile, Akane glanced over her shoulder. Toufu was only a few steps behind.   
"Are you okay, Akane?"  
"I feel better, Mio," Akane responded. It was true. She felt better, but it was very relative. Toufu was right. She had a lot of thinking to do.  
"Akane is a strong girl," Toufu reassured as he walked into the room. "She just needs some help and guidance every so often."   
Akane blushed in embarrassment. Although she knew her behaviour over the past few days had been excessive, it was the only route she had given a chance. Mio had told her she was being silly, in not so few words, and Toufu had forced her to admit it.  
"Now, you'll remember what I said?"  
"Hai."  
"And you'll follow those instructions to the letter? Or do I have to send them to Kasumi?"  
"No, I'll follow them, Sensei."  
Toufu smiled and placed a hand on Akane's shoulder. "Everything will be fine, Akane-chan. If you need anything, don't be afraid to call me. I'll see you on Friday, and we'll go over to the hospital."  
Giving Toufu a quick hug, Akane stepped back and walked over to Mio. When Akane reached her friend's seat, Mio was in the process of packing up her books. "I'm sorry I kept you waiting, Mio. I didn't mean to stay there so long."  
"Don't worry," Mio shrugged. "When I heard you screaming at Toufu- sensei, I figured it would be a while."  
"You heard that?!"  
"I think everyone within a block heard you," Mio giggled and then quickly became serious. Akane was always surprised at how fast Mio switched emotions. Often, Mio resorted to chicanery with people she didn't know or like, and reactions like this made Akane wonder if she was receiving the same treatment. Was she being shut out of her friend's life? Like she had done with...  
"Oh gods, I'm sorry, Mio."  
"For what?" Mio asked curiously as she cinched the straps on her bookbag tight.  
"The last few days," Akane answered incredulously. "I've treated you and everyone else so horribly."  
"Oh," Mio breathed and then picked up her bag. "It's okay."  
Perplexed, Akane picked up her own bag bookbag and slung it over her shoulder and motioned toward the door. "Do you want to get going?"  
"Hai," Mio responded as they walked out of the door.   
For a time, they walked in silence, Akane dwelling on the voluminous advice Toufu had imparted to her. Most of it had been admonitions about her behaviour and reassurances about how the pregnancy would work out, but she just wasn't sure. It was easy to ask and hope for the best, but receiving it was a another type of game.   
"What did you talk about, Akane-chan?" Mio asked as they walked beside the canal. "You don't seem much happier."  
"Is it that obvious?"  
"You're dragging your feet, and watching the fence. You always do that when your worried about Ranma. I guess I just think it means you're mulling over your problems."  
Akane nodded her head and took a few more steps before she spoke up. "Toufu-sensei wants me to go to a women's group. He said that Tsujimura, he's the doctor I saw about the abortion, has one. It's mostly young mothers and a few unwed mothers. He says it'll help me adjust. I just don't know whether to do it or not."  
"Why not? It could help you."  
"I know... I'm just..." She waved her hand and shrugged.  
"Scared?"  
"A little, but not a lot. I guess I just don't know whether I want to keep the baby." Akane shook her head. That was one thing Toufu had told her to stop doing. It wasn't "the baby" it was "her baby". He had told her that she was making it harder on herself by not accepting the truth. She could see the logic in it, but the words scared her. "I don't know if I want... my baby." She cringed as she said it that way. It sounded so horrible, like she was one of those young girls who suffocated their baby at birth because they didn't want it.  
If Mio heard the difference, she let it pass unnoticed.   
"He also wants me to have an ultrasound on Friday."  
"Why?"  
"I don't know. He said that it was about time. I'm nearly nine weeks pregnant and he said most women get them around now. I'm not sure though. I think he just wants to make sure everything is okay with the pregnancy."  
"Is there something wrong with that?"  
"No, that's not the problem." Akane continued to walk and then halted in her steps and faced Mio. "Do you think I'm making the right decision?" she asked tentatively.  
"I don't know," Mio answered after a moment's contemplation. "I know if it were me, I'd have gotten the abortion. Father would kill me if he found out I was pregnant. At least you have your family, and you know that Ranma will be there for you."  
"If he comes back," Akane sighed.   
Mio turned her head away as Akane said that. "Is it really that painful?"  
"Huh?"  
Mio turned around, and Akane was surprised to see tears on her friend's face. "Is if that painful? Is it that bad for you? You were always so happy before, even with your fights with Ranma. You might be glum for an hour or even a day, but never this long. I've seen you smile only a dozen times in the past weeks. It hurts me, Akane. I want to make you happy.   
"You have everything I don't. Your family loves you. You have a wonderful fiancee. You have friends. You are popular. When you're like this, it makes me wonder if there really is anything worth fighting for. It makes me wonder if the world is supposed to be like all those Buddhists believe, just a place to suffer."  
"Mio!' Akane was truly shocked. "You can't mean that. You have as much as me. And if not, I've gone through as much as you. If I can smile, than you can."  
"Then why aren't you smiling? Why are you moping about like a little girl who just had her favourite toy taken away? Why are you shutting everyone out? I'm the only person you talk to anymore. Even Yuka and Koiko can't get near you. Sayuri's worried, and I'm... I'm scared, Akane. I don't want you to do something that's going to make you stay like this. I hate seeing you like this. It's like when your mom died. I was so scared you'd stop being my friend." Mio took Akane's hand in her own and trapped it against her chest. "I need you to be my friend. Don't do this to me. Don't shut me out."  
"You're family, Neechan," Akane whispered hoarsely. "Family is forever. You and I are forever." Freeing her hand, Akane wrapped Mio in a loose sisterly hug. She could feel her friend crying softly into her shoulder, much as she herself had done with Toufu.   
It was a shock to see Mio like this. It hurt because she had been too caught up in her own problems to be there for her friend. No one knew of Mio's life except her, and she had turned her back on her friend when her own problems rose like the eight heads of the oriochi. "I'm sorry, Neechan. I'm so sorry. I've been so selfish."  
"No, I'm sorry," Mio said with a wet hiccup. "I just got scared. You're my only friend, Neechan. I don't have anyone else. I don't want to lose you."  
Akane smiled, the smile that made Ranma's knees weak and the sun seem like a flickering lamp. "You'll never lose me. I told you we'd have our first kids together. I'll just have to find someone for you."  
"Akane!"  
Akane laughed as her own problems receded for a bit. They were still gnawing at her, but her friend's, and sister's, problems were more insistent. "C'mon, you can spend the night at my house. Kasumi would love to see you again."  
Mio stiffened in her arms, and Akane wondered if she had said something wrong.   
"What is it, Mio?"  
"I can't go," Mio said as she stepped back.  
"Why?"  
Mio gave her a level look, her eyes clouded with sorrow. Akane understood. It was the same as every time. "You're father doesn't own you, Mio. You can tell him no."  
"No, I can't," Mio argued softly. "You remember what happened last time I did that, don't you?"  
Akane sighed in frustration. She remembered, and the memory was a festering cancer on her soul. In a fit of rage she had demanded that Mio stand up to her father. Mio had, and had ended up grounded for three months. The first few weeks she hadn't even been in school, and when she returned, she had a broken leg.   
Mio had never been a very active girl, and many had wondered at the broken leg. Of course Mio and Akane spun a believable story about it. It was simple. Mio had wanted to go out with Akane one night to go see a movie. She had slipped and fallen from her window and broken her leg on the pavement below. Some hadn't belived Mio, thinking the story was a little strange, but Akane had supported her. Even at that time, no one crossed Akane without good reason, especially with Nabiki establishing her reputation for ruthlessness. But Akane only supported her friend because she was her friend. But she wanted so much to tell the dreadful truth. Mio's father, in a drunken rage, had hit Mio and knocked her down the stairs.   
For the last three years she had kept it hidden because Mio asked her to keep it silent, but it hurt to see her friend so scared of someone she should love. Akane often told her to come live with her or to at least tell the police, but Mio refused. She insisted that it was only for a few more years. That it didn't happen that often. That most of the time she deserved it. But mostly, because she refused to take her father from her brothers. It was horrible. It was disgusting, but Akane accepted it because she was terrified of losing her best friend.   
But accepting such a dark secret did not make it easier to bear.  
"You'll come over tomorrow at least?" she asked hopefully. "It's Sunday, so we can do our homework and maybe go to the park. Please tell me you'll be there."  
"I'll be there, but I don't need to be home for an hour." Mio's face brightened a little. "Let's go get some ice cream. Your treat of course."  
"And why is it my treat?" Akane demanded.  
"You're pregnant, you're obviously going to eat more. I'm not paying for it."   
"You're worse than Ranma sometimes," Akane laughed.  
"But I am cuter," she smiled.  
"I don't know. He can be pretty cute when he tries. And his breasts are bigger too."  
"How would you know?" Mio taunted and then stuck out her tongue and began to skip away. "Last one there really has to buy."  
"That's no fair," Akane cried out, but she still gave her friend a few more seconds of lead time before she took off after her. They were both laughing when they reached the ice cream shop. Neither of them noticed Nabiki open the door of the small coffee shop across the street.  
  
~~4~~  
  
Nabiki pushed open the dark, wood door of the small kissaten and stepped over the threshold and into the comforting atmosphere. The sight that greeted her was as familiar as her own room, and just as relaxing. The small coffee house was well-lit, lights of the lazily circling ceiling fans pooling into small ovals on the tables. The counter was on her right, and the older woman who ran and owned the shop smiled at Nabiki. Returning the smile, Nabiki turned away from the bar and walked across the main floor, avoiding the raised floor of tatami mats in the center where a few customers reclined upon zabutons.   
The unmistakable sound of the owner's husband in the kitchen (preparing small sandwiches and noodles) drifted through the air. The metallic clink and clank of utensils and pots mingled with the barely perceptible music that permeated the air like the aroma of Kasumi's cooking. Nabiki was only dimly aware of this as she made her way past the few alcoves on the walls, each holding a small statue, painting, or ceramic piece, to her usual table in the far corner.  
Although there were dozens of such coffee houses in Nerima, each with cheaper food or larger seating areas, Nabiki always found her steps crossing the well-worn, wooden floor of this one. For her, it was loyalty that brought her back and the fact that the few people who came into the Floating Lily were searching for the same serenity and privacy that she desired. Everyone knew that they would find Nabiki here if she ever told them to meet her for coffee, so it was no surprise that Kumi and Takanari were already at the table in the corner.  
Nabiki casually strolled over to the table. Neither of them had noticed her entrance. Both were occupied by their own pursuits. Takanari spun his napkin with his forefinger, his brow furrowed above his thin, black eyebrows. His lips were drawn tightly together, his high cheekbones quivered under his dark skin as his jaws clenched and unclenched. Like an animal in a cage, his eyes darted around the table nervously, looking for an avenue of escape. Beside him was an empty pot of coffee and a half empty cup.  
Next to the wild-eyed bronco of Takanari, Kumi was a docile gelding. She nibbled absently on a strand of hair as a steady stream of characters formed underneath her pen. Beside her a small, untouched cup of coffee steamed, contrasting the coffee Takanari was downing with unrestrained abandon.   
"Konnichi wa, Kumi," Nabiki called out idly as she took a seat next to her associate. "What are you working on?" Nabiki glanced casually over at the notebook and then dismissed it as she noticed the subject.  
"Nothing much, Boss," Kumi shrugged, flipping the notebook closed and capping her pen. "I just thought I'd get a few things wrapped up before you arrived."  
"Do you think you'll be done compiling Yoshioka's debts by next week? And have him caught up on back interest?" Nabiki asked, ignoring Takanari. She knew she was taking a big chance by ignoring Takanari, but Nabiki wanted some control of the situation. After a week of searching and digging, Nabiki was becoming as frustrated as an archeologist in the wrong spot. Raiko knew how to keep herself afloat. In many ways, Nabiki saw part (albeit a very small one) of herself in the conniving little minx. She covered her tracks better than a fox going to ground, yet Raiko still pulled off some of the more spectacular chicken heists in Furinkan's history. What Raiko lacked in an efficient, long-reaching, ruthlessness, she made up in her ability to stay well out of the lime light.  
It was Kumi who finally uncovered a small crack in Raiko's founda- tion, barely large enough to accommodate a small stream of water into the fortress. But, when the time was right, that trickle of water could be frozen in an instant and rip asunder Raiko like a scrap of meat between the rabid dogs of Furinkan High. All she needed was the right water, and Kumi eagerly led Nabiki to the source of that water. Katsu Takanari.  
"I don't think so," Kumi answered. "I'll have the amounts figured out, but Takezo's being stubborn about paying me. He thinks he has the right to pay you and only you."  
"Did he want me to give him a manicure at the same time?" Nabiki asked derisively. "Or maybe he wants me to hold his hand so he won't be scared? What do you think his reasons are?"  
"I don't think he likes me," Kumi grinned. "Every time I mention a certain date, he just gets flustered and defensive."   
"Do you think he's having trouble dealing with reality?"  
"Oh no, I think he just can't accept the fact that I'm not thanking him for his attentions," Kumi stated and then grinned devilishly.  
"I should probably have a talk with him, shouldn't I?"   
"You don't need to go through all the trouble, Boss. I'm sure we'll reach an accommodation."  
"If you say so, but I could always ask his father to speak with him," Nabiki suggested. Kumi shrugged non-committally, and Nabiki turned to face Takanari. "Speaking of accommodations, I think we have some business to discuss, ne, Takanari-kun?"   
Takanari started in surprise at Nabiki's question. It was obvious that he had been paying very little attention to the past few moments. "Um, business?" he asked, sounding so much like Ranma that Nabiki barely contained her smile.  
"I think our last transaction is not yet complete."  
"But I paid you the money, and the extra," Takanari whined, trying to weasel his way out of the inevitable.   
Nabiki tsked as she shook her head, "I'm not interested in the money, Takanari-kun. You owe me something else."   
Kumi pushed away from the table and set out to find some coffee for her boss. What Takanari was trying was the visceral reaction to Nabiki, but he was blind to the reality that his position had crumbled beneath him the moment he had consented to meet Nabiki on her own terms. That was always their first and last mistake. From the expression on Takanari's face, it appeared he had just realized that he should have asked what he was feeding to the lions before accepting the job to do so.  
"You mean the favour?" Takanari asked timidly. His hand massaged his forehead as if a small bird was pecking incessantly between his eyes.  
"I heard your girlfriend left you," Nabiki stated, oblivious, by choice, to Takanari's question.  
"I still don't know how she found out about the other girl," Takanari growled. "I was only with her twice. Only you..." His complaint died in mid-sentence, and his eyes came to rest on Nabiki like a hyena's on a circling vulture.   
She saw him connecting facts and circumstances like the interlocking pieces of a puzzle. She saw the escalating anger as a picture began to form, but Nabiki remained unphased. She always kept her word, and the proof was only a cup of coffee away.  
"You told her!" he accused.  
"Don't be absurd," Nabiki answered dismissively as Kumi returned with a latte and set it down in front of Nabiki. Nabiki nodded her head in thanks, never letting up the vices she had begun to close around Takanari. "You paid me, and I always keep my bargains. Isn't that right, Kumi?"  
"I have never seen nor heard of you deviating from what you promised. Of course, people always misunderstand what you say, but is that Nabiki's fault, Katsu-san?"   
"How can I believe you? What proof do you have that you didn't? And why should I even listen to you, Nabiki?" Takanari demanded indignantly.  
"Because I know who told your girlfriend about your little friend."  
Nabiki took a small sip of her latte and watched the emotions play across his face like the multi-hued light reflected by a disco ball. This was a tenuous moment. She had to make him believe her, or else he wouldn't willingly follow her. Too much would go wrong if he was forced into her plans.  
"I need more than that. How can I trust you?" Takanari asked carefully. His eyes gleamed in the low light, and he surreptitiously wet his lips as he spoke.  
"Because I asked your ex-girlfriend who told her?" Kumi answered smugly.  
Takanari frowned at this and then opened his mouth to speak, but Nabiki beat him to it. "C'mon, Taka-kun. Not even you are dense enough to be ignorant about a few of your girlfriend's friends. Kumi happens to be one of them."  
Glancing over at Kumi, Takanari received a small smile and a wink to confirm Nabiki's words. "Okay, tell me, and I'll say that you didn't tell her and listen to you."  
"Kumi?"  
Kumi nodded. "Do you know Chusho Hitomi?"  
Takanari nodded. "Yeah, she's in the grade below me. She hangs out a lot with Setsuko's sister Aika."  
"That's her," Kumi acknowledged. "She told Aika about your little fling, and Aika told her older sister."  
Takanari shook his head. "But why? What does she have against me?"  
"Probably nothing," Nabiki answered, "but Raiko never did like you going out with Setsuko. Nor did she like you going out with Megumi or Hakura."  
"Raiko? Why the hell would she care what I did? I told her a long time ago that I wanted nothing to do with her. I don't like her type. They're too much like you," Takanari snapped and then clamped a hand over his mouth as his eyes widened in surprise and fear.  
Nabiki arched an eyebrow at him as Kumi tried desperately to control a fit of giggling. She failed. Nabiki turned to face her associate as Kumi began to giggle uncontrollably and then laugh, trying to speak between gulps of air. "You... put... Oh gods..." She collapsed against the table, tears in her eyes. "You're... You're worse... worse than... Ranma!"  
Even Nabiki smiled at that one. Takanari was still trembling in shock, his eyes wide and mouth gaping as Kumi's laughter slowly died to a few wet giggles. "Sorry, Boss," Kumi finally whispered. "I've never seen something that stupid before. I thought everyone knew to hold their tongue around you." Kumi smiled over at Takanari. "He did make me laugh though, so don't go too hard on him."  
"I'm sorry, Nabiki," Takanari stammered, finally finding his voice. "I didn't mean it. It just slipped out. Please don't ruin me. I'll do anything."  
"Just for that, Taka-kun," Nabiki stated flatly, hiding her elation. "I think you're going to be dating Raiko for a while."  
"Nani?"  
"It's very simple, Takanari. Raiko has been pining over you for years. She's broken up every relationship you've had. For all I know, she fixed you up with that girl a few weeks ago. I don't think that makes you too happy, does it?"  
Nabiki watched satisfied as Takanari shook his head. The entire plan had started on shaky ground. It took a few lucky clues and overheard conversations, a little digging on Kumi's part, for Nabiki to begin putting together the clues to Raiko's greatest weakness. She was hopelessly in love with Takanari. In truth, every other guy she had gone out with and after, even her intentions with Ranma, had been motivated to make Takanari jealous and turn to her.  
"Just ask her out Takanari," Nabiki stated. "Take her to the movies. Take her to dinner. I'll even provide you with money for the more expensive things. I want you to make sure she thinks you love her. I don't care if you cheat on her. I don't care what you do with her, just makes sure she doesn't find out."  
"How can I do that, even if I do this?" Takanari prevaricated.   
Nabiki smiled. She had him hooked. She could see the eager fire in his eyes. He wanted some form of revenge also. "I'll take care of it, Takanari. Just date her, and I'll tell you what to do. Just don't fall in love with her. If you do, I'll make sure you suffer for a long time. Do you understand?"   
"Hai."  
"So I can count on you?"  
"Hai."  
"Excellent," Nabiki breathed ecstatically.  
It was ironic that she was going to be using Raiko's ultimate goal, the reason she had gotten embroiled with Akane in the first place, to make her suffer as much as her sister did. She would give Raiko her few short weeks of fame and position as the Queen of Furinkan. Nabiki had a flair for the dramatic. She knew when everything was perfect. It was like cooking. She needed the right ingredients, the proper mixing proportions, and just enough time to simmer and cook before she served it like revenge should be served. Cold, and in plain sight of the world.   
The rumours and innuendos about Akane would die with Ranma's return. Maybe the pain and humiliation felt by her sister would disappear, but even a moment of the anguished look that had adorned her sister's face as she cried herself to sleep over the last week was too much to let pass quietly. Raiko's humiliation would last for the rest of her teenage life, and, hopefully, beyond.  
  
~~5~~  
  
Akane was exhausted by the time she trudged through the front door. She had spent the two hours since leaving Mio wandering the park. Hoping to find some serenity, she had only found more questions. In the end she had decided that home and bed were better for her than aimless wandering.  
"Akane? Is that you?"  
"Hai, Oneechan," Akane answered as she slipped off her shoes and entered the main hall. Kasumi was in the kitchen, finishing up the after dinner cleaning.   
"Did you have a nice time?" Kasumi asked as her younger sister entered the kitchen.  
"I guess."  
"Do you want something to eat?"  
"No, I had a bowl of oden an hour ago, and some ice cream before that."  
Kasumi turned from her work and gave her a stern look. "That is not very healthy food, Akane-chan."  
"Don't start, Oneechan," Akane sighed. "Everyone's yelled at me today. I don't need you to do it too." Sighing, Akane pulled a stool up to the counter and leaned her head against the cool laminate.   
"Still, in your condition, even if you don't feel like, you are eating for the baby as well."  
"Where's Otousan?" Akane asked suddenly, looking around worriedly.  
Kasumi shook her head in resignation. "Saotome-san and Otousan went to the public baths an hour ago. They said they were going drinking afterwards."  
Relief flooded through Akane. She was still unsure how she was going to broach the subject of her pregnancy to her father. It wasn't like he needed to know at the moment. She would tell him, she just wanted the timing to be right. Preferably ten years in the future, she thought ruefully.   
Turning back to her sister, Akane found a reproachful look on her face, but it quickly vanished beneath a small smile. "You really should tell Otousan. He deserves to know."  
"I know," Akane sighed. "I'll do it, but just not now."  
"If you say so." Kasumi sighed and turned back to the dishes. "But he might surprise you."   
Silently berating herself, Akane stood up. "I'm sorry, sis. I'm just tired. I didn't mean to snap at you."  
"That's okay, Akane-chan. I understand."  
Akane almost shouted that she didn't, but held her tongue in check. "If there's nothing else, I'm gonna take a bath and go to bed."  
"No...Oh yes! A letter was delivered for you this morning."  
"A letter?" Akane's eyes brightened at the mention. Maybe Ranma had written her.  
"It's on the table by the front door."  
Akane was gone before Kasumi finished. The letter was easy to find. But, as she saw it, her heart sank. It was on parchment with her name elegantly scrolled in ink on the front. Obviously, it wasn't from Ranma. Still, curiosity compelled her, and she opened it and read it as she walked back to the kitchen. She was frowning as she passed the kitchen.  
"Who is it from?" Kasumi called out.  
"Kunou," Akane replied absently, as she moved toward the stairs. "But why does he want to meet me tomorrow?" she muttered to herself as she climbed the stairs to her room, the bath forgetten.  
  
~~6~~  
  
"Are you sure you don't want me to stay?"  
"It's okay, Mio. Besides, Kunou wanted to meet with me privately." Akane smiled reassuringly at her friend, trying to pass off the rendezvous as nothing out of the ordinary. Mio was not fooled.  
"If you say so, but I don't trust him."  
"Only a fool trusts Kunou," Akane responded quickly, "but he has been agreeable the past few weeks. He probably just wants to give me a speech about the baby. You know how he is."  
"Oh yes. 'Be steadfast against the unwholesome wiles of the accursed Saotome. His words drip like the sweet scent of sap that entraps the golden butterfly. Guard well thy virtue from miscreants such as he, sweet Tendou Akane. But, I must have thee!'"   
Akane smiled as Mio giggled at her own words. "He is rather inconsis- tent, isn't he?" Akane asked.  
"The tide changes direction less than he does."   
Akane snickered into her hands.  
"Are you sure you'll be fine? You were pretty upset yesterday, and you *know* how Kunou annoys you."   
Akane sighed and smoothed out her skirt. "I'd rather get it over with now than keep dodging his requests for the next few weeks. Besides, at least no one will know of this except him, you, and me. I'd prefer it that way."   
"I guess." Mio's voice betrayed her uncertainty. "I'll just be over by the playground. We're going to study after this, right?"  
"Yeah, I'll see you in a bit. That's the pond he wanted to meet by." Akane waved once and made her way down the path to the pond while Mio went the other way.  
The path wound through the immaculate lawn like a termite trail in a log. On either side, it was accented with blooming blue-white flowers. The pond itself was a deep azure and was only a few meters wide. Roughly heart shaped, there were three benches hidden among the groves of hedges surrounding the pond.   
Kunou's letter had described the location perfectly, only leaving out the name. As she saw the kanji imprinted on a small metal plague attached to a granite stone, she understood why.   
It was a lover's pool. What did he think this was, a date? Smoothing her skirt, Akane tried to calm herself, but a fire still burned deep within her. At this point in her life, his foolishness was not welcome.  
Despite her words and actions, she did not dislike Kunou. It was his constant ability to presume more than he knew, and to claim more than he owned that sent her blood boiling almost as fast as Ranma did. In many ways, he was too childish to hate, but that did not mean his antics did not annoy her like a ward does his nanny.  
"The day has now culminated in a breathtaking vision of heaven. If not but for stern and unbending duty, like a taskmaster sorely enraged by drink, I wouldst embrace life's slumber and cradle mine head upon fleecy dreams."  
"I thought you were going to stop that, Kunou-sempai," Akane stated. She turned to find Kunou standing expectantly beside one of the benches. By his dress, a kimono that began as a deep blue and slowly darkened to black below the obi, the tone of this meeting was to be very much the formal one she had dreaded.  
"Though it wounds me to the quick, mine instincts I shall curb like errant thoughts that eat away at honour and sanity both."  
"Thank you," Akane mumbled and took a few steps toward him.  
"Would you like to sit?" He motioned toward the bench.  
"Will this take long?" Akane asked, eyeing the bench dubiously. She did not want to put herself at a disadvantage. "I have things to do."  
"I understand. This will take but a few minutes. You may stand or sit, either will not affect my words in the least."   
"Just get to the point, Kunou-sempai."  
Nodding his head, Kunou turned away and walked to the edge of the pond, his hands clasped at his side. "When last we talked, you told me this was none of my business, and I agreed because you wished it, Tendou Akane. Before that, I promised to be a friend to you, but I find it hard to keep either of those promises."  
Akane began to retort, but Kunou held up his hand. "Do not argue, listen."   
Biting her lip to keep silent, Akane absently smoothed her skirt out again. She was nervous, and Kunou Tatewaki's very formal manner was alleviating that feeling like sand quenched thirst.  
"I have been absent from school because I can only mull over your situation and gag on it like stale vomit."  
"Sempai!"   
Kunou turned, his eyebrow cocked quizzically. "If I offend, I did not mean to, Tendou Akane. But truth between us is needed. Your honour has been compromised by circumstances that were very beyond your control. Even if you protest and tell me that you submitted willing and such was just an accident, that still leaves the undeniable blemish of Saotome's desertion of you in your trying time of need."  
"He didn't desert me, Kunou-sempai. He doesn't even know about what is happening."  
"Ignorance is no excuse. And in his ignorance, he will make a decision that will end up in your continued dishonour. I cannot, and I will not allow that."  
"I don't think you have a choice, Kunou-sempai," Akane responded chilly. "You have nothing to do with anything that is happening to me. Why won't you just take no as an answer?"  
Akane was surprised as he took two quick steps forward and cupped her chin in his hand. Her hand was cocked for a punch before she thought about it. But then she looked up into his face. His eyes were burning, filled with a sense of purpose she rarely saw in him. His words were usually empty, posturing more like the cock of a henhouse for the sole sake of his ego than any real challenge. Her fist unclenched.  
"Why do you make this so hard for me, Tendou Akane? You bait and barb me with words sharper than any Saotome has ever used. In many ways, you try my patience more than your sister does. Yet, I still come back to you time and time again, desiring to assist and protect you. Maybe it is love, or maybe stupidity. Poets and writers have never figured which is more true, so how could I? But I do know that you need help. Help that only I can offer you."  
"What can you offer me, Kunou-sempai?" Akane asked. "Riches? Your undying devotion? A certain future? Acceptance?"  
"Yes."  
Akane grasped his wrist and pulled his hand from her chin. "I don't want that from you."  
"Why do you continue this fantastical and vicarious existence of yours?" Kunou demanded harshly. "Do you still pine after than wretch? How can your heart beat out his name when he abandons you, washing his hands clean as he goes?"  
"I love him," Akane stately with the serenity and confidence of a queen.   
Kunou lapsed into a contemplative silence for a moment before stepping backward and turning his eyes skyward. "Like the sun rising each morn, like the constancy of the North star, I always knew that my love for you would be there, morning or night. For years has that love guided and blinded me. I have loved you with my whole soul, but love given is never love received. Eros is impartial and unbalanced with his gift, but I can no more deny it than can a drowning man not strive for air."  
"Shut up!" Akane screamed. "You don't know what you're talking about. Just because I can't love you, doesn't mean that Ranma doesn't love me."  
"Reality is as it is, Tendou Akane. We both come from lifestyles that are no longer the norm in Japan. We are driven more by necessity than by any personal feeling. You're engagement to Saotome was arranged. His feelings for you are obligated. If you love him, it is a love not returned. You delude yourself, but I will not. I know your feelings are cold and reptilian toward me. Warm words cost you, but I can offer you safety from the people at school. I can legitimize your child. I can do all that you might hope. Necessity is a cruel mistress, but she is one that must be obeyed."  
Akane shook her head and stepped back from Kunou in fear. She did not know this person in front of her. Kunou was harmless, a poser, a hollow glass statue, a reflection of someone who did not exist. This man cut deeply with words, words Nabiki might have used. He did not ask, but demanded, did not coddle. "Leave me alone," Akane whispered in horror. "We are not friends any more. I don't want anything to do with you."  
Kunou shrugged and captured her with his brown eyes. "None of us have a choice. Marriage to me will solve your problems. I care for you enough that I'll put aside my happiness and joy to save your honour. It will be a marriage in name only. I ask nothing from you. If you wish, you will not even have to live in my home. But you will be married to me. You will be my wife, and that means you will do nothing to tarnish the Kunou name. Your child will be mine. Your honour mine. Your family has broken the engagement with the Saotome's. No one will ever take you again. There is no one who could carry on your family line with as much honour. Your love of Ranma is a sham. I am your only hope, Tendou Akane." He bowed deeply and turned to leave, but he halted at the last minute and glanced over his shoulder. "I don't expect an answer soon, but before long your condition will become too advanced for you to put it off any longer. Adieu, fair sunrise of the heavens."  
For a moment, Akane could only stare at his receding back in shock. How could he? It wasn't true. None of it was true. He... He... "I hate you!" she screamed. "I hate you! You are wrong. Ranma loves me. He'll come back. I don't need you. I'll never need you! You're the delusional idiot! You... Ranma loves me," she whispered and then sank to the ground weeping. Kunou was gone, vanished into the park, but his words remained like echoes deep within a cave. Forever, they reverberated their dark truth until they were all she heard in the depths of her clouded soul.  
  
~~7~~  
  
The streets of Nerima were calm in the early twilight. Although an uncommon experience, the quiet and serenity of both day and night had become the norm in the past weeks. For some, the quiet was disturbing. The older men always cautioned that the quiet always came before the storm. But still, even with the thought of the returning storm, people in Nerima counted their blessings, and the last weeks of peaceful rest were the most blessed the citizens of Nerima had enjoyed in several years.  
As Shampoo walked among the quiet houses, whose lights shone their domestic tranquility upon the people and cars in the streets, she could only feel an abiding sorrow. In the insanity and storm that many of Nerima's residents found only headaches and excuses to find a new home, Shampoo had found her own home.   
But like a mother who wakes one morning to find her home empty of children, Nerima had become lonesome and desolate for Shampoo. Since the Nekohaten had closed a week ago, the youthful Amazon had found the days to pass lethargically. At times, she found herself picking up her bicycle to go find her husband, only to realize that he was no longer in town. Only the knowledge that she would soon be with him in China kept her smiling throughout the day, but thoughts rarely relieved boredom for an Amazon.  
She frowned as she slowed and finally stopped. Leaning against a lamppost, the light spilt across her lavender locks and threw her face into shadow. It was not even the boredom that held the clouds above her head and furrowed her delicate brow. The few days after the Nekohaten had shut its doors and served its last customers, she was a bundle of nervous energy, relaxing in the moment of freedom, practicing her art, and just lulling about the empty building. That had changed with her great-grandmother's proclamation that Shampoo herself had to leave for Hong Kong soon and meet Ranma there.  
She was heading home. The reality of it hit her the moment Cologne told her to pack and to expect to leave in but a moment's notice.  
Shampoo sighed. She was going to miss Nerima.  
It was a strong consolation that her departure was going to be to join her beloved Ranma. But why did she continuously wander the streets, searching aimlessly for something she couldn't explain, just that she knew it was something she had lost? She kept expecting Mousse to declare his love for her. She wanted to crash into Ranma and grasp him tightly as she watched the jealousy and anger blossom, like a school-girl's blush, on Akane's face.   
For a moment, she considered trying to talk with the youngest Tendou, but the mere thought of the reception she would receive was enough to deter her. In the ultimate scheme of the kami, it was for the best that she left, she decided. The means by which she had finally won Ranma had put her beyond everyone she had ever considered her friend. They would turn their backs on her, deride her, and would accost her with that look. The look of disgust and betrayal. The look that told her she had gone too far, that she had not won but torn apart the lives of everyone she knew and cared about.  
She did it for the Amazons. She did it for a Clan and a village that she had few ties to. Only her great-grandmother and Mousse were her friends from China. But could they really be counted? No one in the village was her friend. They were enemies, opponents, and challengers. She had been raised beyond them all. But here, here she was someone, even if it was an annoying person.   
It hurt to turn away from all that she had found. It tore her heart that she had to leave like she did, unloved and despised by many. It didn't matter that Cologne had been the one to conceive and bring the desperate plan to fruition, she was still the Amazon bimbo and no one would forgive her. But she did it for love. For the love of Ranma, the one man who made her life mean more than an unending battle of survival. For that love, to have his arms around her and his lips on her own, she would make the devils glare with envy. For that love, she would become a saint to make the angels weep and sing in adulation.  
Shampoo produced an indelicate noise of disgust. Why was she pining over the loss of competitors? She had won. In the end, the Amazon strength had risen its head as the victorious one. She should not be moping, but strutting the town with a bold and daring step. She should be rubbing her victory in the faces of the others.   
So why wasn't she?  
She didn't know, and she did not want to know. It was a portion of herself she did not want to admit existed. It was the portion that kept telling her that what she was doing was wrong, but that small voice paled in comparison with her great-grandmother's. If she was going to marry Ranma, she had to ignore that voice. She had to do what her great-grand- mother desired of her.   
Straightening herself, Shampoo stepped back onto the sidewalk. Before she took two steps, however, she collided with someone. Stumbling backwards, Shampoo quickly regained her balance and turned to find the person she had accidentally accosted. An apology was on her lips, but it died as she found herself looking into the cool eyes of Nabiki.  
Nabiki was regarding Shampoo carefully, an eyebrow cocked inquisi- tively. She was leaning lightly against a tall, thin man with dark, slightly grey-shot hair. They were both wearing formal clothing, the man in a pressed, dark suit with a red kerchief in the pocket and a dark tie against his starched white shirt. Nabiki wore a midnight blue evening gown that clung to her figure like a lover and glittered in the light. It was low-cut and contrasted with the white skin of her visible bosom to make a tempting invitation for any man's eyes.  
Shampoo didn't know the man, nor was she interested in who he was, but she eyed Nabiki warily, like one did a large spider crawling across the floor.  
"It's nice to see you again, Shampoo," Nabiki said with a quirk on her lips. "How have you been?"  
"Shampoo been fine."  
"I'm surprised you are still in Nerima. I would have thought that you'd be chasing after Ranma-kun by now. You were _always_ so ambitious about it before."  
"Nabiki," the tall man interrupted before Shampoo could respond, "might I get an introduction?"  
"Of course, Satoru-kun," Nabiki smiled pleasantly, her eyes glinting maliciously. "May I present Shan-pu, great-granddaughter of Kuh Lon, Matriarch of the Amazons."  
The way Nabiki emphasized each word gave Shampoo the impression that she was being looked down upon. She saw the same reflected in Satoru's eyes. He was obviously sizing her up and dismissing her as unimportant in his world. She understood the insult, but she refused to lower herself to it. She was not the barbarian Nabiki and the Japanese thought her to be.   
Satoru nodded his head in her direction as Nabiki continued. "Shan- pu, this is Yoshioka Satoru-san, the new Director of Mishimata Land and Holdings, son of Yoshioka Satoshi vice president of Mishimata Industries."  
"Hajimemashite. Douzo yoroshiku," Shampoo mouthed formally.  
"It is pleasant to meet you also," Satoru-san responded. "Please regard me favorably as well."  
They were words that were used for every meeting. Her great-grand- mother had drilled the proprieties of the Japanese language into her, but she understood that they were only formalities.  
"I haven't seen you for a while, Shampoo," Nabiki chatted amiably.  
"Shampoo no have time to fool with greedy Tendou-girl."  
"Oh, is that so? Or are you simply feeling guilty for what your great-grandmother and you did to Ranma?"  
Shampoo flinched at the anger in Nabiki's voice. The words brought up the small voice again, but Shampoo roughly shoved it aside. She refused to break down in front of this girl and give her the satisfaction of knowing she had won the last encounter. "Why Shampoo feel guilty? Shampoo do what right. Shampoo help free Airen, and now Shampoo go back to China with Airen."  
"Oh, so you know where he is?"  
"Shampoo know."  
"I'm so glad," Nabiki gushed. "You'll have a hard enough time catch- ing him. I didn't want you to waste your time looking for a wild horse. But I suppose your great-grandmother will be there to help you lasso him in."  
"Great-grandmother stay here," Shampoo snapped, trying to make it clear that she was the one who would catch Ranma. "She still sell restaurant."  
"That *is* a pity."  
"Nabiki," Satoru interrupted, "I think it is time we got going. The reservations are for eight o'clock. That only gives us half an hour."  
"I'm sorry, Satoru-kun," Nabiki answered, ignoring Shampoo. "We should be going. Ja, Shampoo. Good luck in your hunting. You'll need it."  
Nabiki and Satoru disappeared up the street, Nabiki's tinkling laughter ghosting behind the two. Shampoo ground her teeth together. She might miss some people in Nerima, but she was definitely not going to mourn the loss of the middle Tendou daughter's companionship.  
  
~~8~~  
  
"Have you spoken with him since?" Mio asked.  
"No," Akane replied coldly. "I don't even want to see his face."  
"I don't blame you, but still."  
"But nothing! He just wants me back." Akane snorted in disgust. "As if he had me in the first place. What a pompous, misguided sukebe!"  
"Not so loud, Akane," Mio cautioned as several people on the street regarded them with disapproval. "You might be right, but we are in public."  
"I'm sorry," Akane sighed. "I just can't get over it. The nerve of him. To think that I would ever need him or his honour? Ranma has more sense than him."  
"C'mon, Akane. You've been going on about this all week. Just ignore it. He's harmless."  
"I know. I know," Akane sighed, and then added, "I just can't help believing that everything he said is true."   
The last was but a whisper on the wind and not intended for anyone's ears, but Mio still heard it, bringing back the terror she had felt just five days ago.   
After waiting an hour for Akane, she had become worried and went back to look for her friend. The day was lengthening as she neared the pond. The park around her was empty. People did not come to this portion until later in the evening. As she approached the serene quiet was broken by a sporadic, muffled voice. Worried and curious, Mio hurried toward the small pond. The voice got louder and more distraught as she approached. Stepping past the row of hedges around the placid pool, she found the wellspring of the sound.   
With a cry, she ran to Akane, who was leaning against one of the benches, her arms wrapped about her knees. "Neechan! What happened? Did Kunou hurt you? Please! Talk to me."  
Akane only shook her head and mumbled. "He loves me. Ranma loves... Kunou doesn't understand. Even if he doesn't know... Even if... He loves me. He has to love me!"   
Mio shuddered as she walked next to her friend. It was easy to forget that Akane was like everyone else. People always put on their strongest face, their most confident appearance in public, while jealously hoarding insecurities as if they were gold nuggets. She did it with her family life. She kept the pain bottled up. She smiled and kept to herself. It was the safest way. Ranma used his boisterousness and out-going personality to hide the frightened child who did not how to deal with the world.   
With Akane, it had always been anger.   
The red hot temper that many feared was her only way of keeping people from the terrified and uncertain child that lurked just below the surface. She angered quickly, but Mio, as her oldest friend, had been privy to the breakdowns that occurred frequently. For Akane, there simply was no middle ground. She could never find it long enough to be comfortable. She was either completely happy, homicidally angry, or hysterical. Akane just did not understand how to handle life. Mio did not understand it, but she accepted it and tried to work around Akane's limitations.   
"Do you want to get something to eat?" It was a common tactic. If she could distract Akane, everything would be okay.  
"I'm not really hungry," Akane answered as she ground her teeth in frustration.  
"Stop lying. Your stomach's been growling since sixth period," Mio badgered. "C'mon. Ucchan's is just ahead. We can get some okonomiyaki. I'll even pay for it."  
"Well..."  
"C'mon."  
"Hai," Akane grinned. "Maybe I could use something to eat."  
"Of course you can."   
Grabbing Akane's hand, Mio pulled her across the street and toward the Ucchan. It was a short walk, and soon they were sliding into a small booth as the scintillating aroma of okonomiyaki filled the air.  
There were many restaurants in Nerima. Some even served okonomiyaki, one or two even better than the Ucchan, but Mio always came back to the Ucchan. It was hard to explain why. There was a comfort within the small little shop. From the grill just behind the short, maple bar and the half dozen small tables and dozen booths to the slowly dancing ceiling fans and the curtains and plants, it exuded a serene quality akin to Kasumi's kitchen and home.   
The Ucchan wasn't a business built on the desire for money. It was built for love. Even if it was misplaced love, it was still built on a concept that filled the restaurant with the extra care and relaxing feel of the home. When she came here, Mio felt the same way she did eating with the Tendou family. Just like Kasumi's exquisite meals and immaculate home, Ucchan's whispered, "I do this because I love you." Even if the love wasn't for her, she knew, in some general sense, that she was included in the care and joy Ukyou gave and received from her quaint shop.  
"Can I help you?"  
The feminine voice startled both Akane and Mio. A teenage girl was standing beside their booth, a pad and pencil in hand. She was wearing a short, blue skirt and white blouse. It was not abnormal, accept from the fact that the girl was new to the store. Neither Akane nor Mio recognized the raven-haired girl.  
"Who are you?' Mio asked after a moment. "I've never seen you here before."  
The girl smiled. "Oh, I'm Megumi. I was just hired a few days ago. They needed some part-time help. I was in here one day, saw Konatsu-san put the sign up, and he hired me."  
"Konatsu hired you?" Akane started. "Where is Ukyou?"  
"She is..."  
"Hey Akane! Mio!" a familiar voice interrupted from the door.   
Turning Mio saw Hiroshi standing by the door. Even though his head was outside the door, she knew it was Hiroshi. She could have picked him out of a crowd at a masquerade ball.   
"Hey, Daisuke! Sayuri!" Hiroshi shouted, his voice muffled by the door and walls. "Akane and Mio are in here. Let's eat with them."  
Wearing a rakish grin, Hiroshi popped his head back into the restaurant and combed his fingers through his unruly brown hair. Mio smiled in spite of herself. He was a good guy at heart, just a complete social klutz. It wasn't so much that he tried to fit in and failed, but that his concept of fitting in was to be himself, which in turn ended him in hot water with almost every girl and half the guys.   
Because of that, he placed himself in Ranma's friendship almost immediately upon his entering Furinkan. Mio really did not even think that Hiroshi had sought Ranma out, more than they had stumbled across each other, struck up and conversation and never found a satisfactory ending point. Wasn't that what friendship was all about? Two people who depended on each other more for conversation and understanding than any sense of attraction. Of course, besides Ranma and Diasuke, Hiroshi's childhood friend, Mio only knew of a few other people he hung out with, and most of those were brought about because of Ranma's contact with Akane.  
It was really a shame. The reputation he held was undeserved. Mio had known him for several years and found that he was probably one of the most intelligent people she would ever meet, if not the most eccentric. Despite his intelligence, or maybe because of it, he never tried to step around the subject, preferring to confront people with the same tact as Theodore Roosevelt's political practices.   
"Ah, I hope you don't mind that we join you," Hiroshi stated as he slid into the booth, forcing Akane to scoot toward the window.   
"Not at all, Hiroshi-kun. Ne, Mio-chan?" Akane asked smiling at er friend.   
Mio started as the question was asked. Though she had been paying attention, it was more like the attention paid to a well-known route, simply watching for new obstacles. She stumbled over this one, to busy watching and thinking about Hiroshi to concentrate. "Uh, what was that?" Mio asked, smiling slightly at Hiroshi. He didn't notice, too busy directing Diasuke and his girlfriend Sayuri to the table.  
"I said, aren't you glad Hiroshi-kun joined us?"   
The question drew Mio back to Akane. "Sure. I don't mind being with him." She smiled a little at the thought and then blushed as she realized she had said it aloud. She tried to cover it up with a quick addendum. "If you don't mind that is."   
Akane smiled at her friend, her eyes thoughtful and filled with mirth. Mio bit her lip and slid lower in her seat. She knew Akane was up to something, and Mio was fairly sure it was going to be embarrassing.  
"So have you guys ordered yet?" Hiroshi asked, and then continued without waiting for an answer. "No, I didn't think so. So what do you want, Mio?"  
"Probably her usual," Akane prompted.  
"Right, a Chef's Deluxe," Hiroshi finished, snapping his fingers and then shaking his head. "Should've thought of that myself"   
Akane only winked at Mio, who just kept her eyes down, trying to keep from blushing. At least, Akane was occupied with something else.  
"You still want two Deluxe's, extra sauce, Daisuke?"  
"Do you have to ask, man? I always get the same thing."  
"Well, just wanted to make sure. You never know when you might decide to do something unexpected."  
"And the sun'll rise in the west," Sayuri smiled.  
"Hey, I skipped lunch last week Thursday," Daisuke protested. "If that isn't spontaneous..."  
"Detention with Hinako-sensei isn't spontaneous," Mio added softly.  
"Just what I was going to say," Hiroshi grinned and then turned to Sayuri. "So what do you want? Let me guess. A new boyfriend? I'm free."  
"Get real," Sayuri sighed. "He is such a pain sometimes. I don't know why I even put up with him. If I have to deal with that idiot, I don't even think Daisuke's worth it."  
"Oh, I know," Akane pipped up. "I think it's Ranma's influence. He seems to bring the worst out in people."  
"Or the best," Mio retorted and then blushed as Akane grinned at her.   
"At least someone's on my side," Hiroshi said. "How bout you, Daisuke?"  
"Are you paying?"  
Hiroshi gave his friend a very even look.   
"Then I guess I'm siding with Sayuri."  
Hiroshi drew his face up in an artful contrivance of pain. "Et tu, Daisuke? But so fares the lone man gainst the wiles of a woman's allure. My own friend turned against me and leashed by... itai!"  
Sayuri smirked and rearranged her skirt. Hiroshi was nursing his shin and looking like a contrite puppy.  
"So, Akane, how are things going?" Sayuri asked, breaking Hiroshi's stranglehold on the conversation much to Mio's relief.  
"The good or the bad?"  
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to pry."  
"No," Akane reassured her friend. "I'm just being short with everyone these days. I'm sorry if I hurt you."  
"What's there to be sorry about, Akane?" Hiroshi asked seriously, his brown eyes burning. "Everyone is just being a snob."   
"If you beat a few of them up," Daisuke suggested, "they'd probably leave you alone."  
"But then they'd hate her," Hiroshi protested.  
"They already do," Daisuke responded.  
"Hiroshi's right, Suke-chan," Sayuri said. "No one hates Akane except Raiko and her bunch. Everyone else is just following that crowd."  
"Right," Hiroshi agreed. "They think they can get back at her for being popular and having all the guys chase her."  
"I still think you should beat em up, Akane. They deserve it."  
"Drop it man," Hiroshi warned Daisuke. "If Akane wanted to do that, she would've done it. She has other things on her mind. Let them be, even if they do deserve it." Hiroshi looked around and then began to smile like Nabiki at the height of a conquest. "If they feel safe, it'll hurt even more when Ranma kicks all of their asses from here to Hokkaido."  
Only interested in Hiroshi, Mio did not look at Akane until he finished his last sentence with that gloating boast. Akane was staring at all of them, her eyes shimmering. "Akane?" Mio called softly. "Did we say something wrong?"  
She shook her head and dried her eyes. "No... Never. I just keep forgetting that I have friends in all of this. Thank you. Thank you so much. Especially you, Hiroshi-kun."   
Impulsively, Akane leaned over toward Hiroshi. For a moment Mio thought Akane would kiss him, but Akane caught herself at the last moment and only gently brushed his cheek. From the way Hiroshi started and looked guiltily around, however, one would have thought he had just received the kiss of a lifetime from Akane. Ranma's jealous rages were the stuff of legends, and even without him, things had a way of making their way around Nerima and being blown way out of proportion.  
"You are such a nice guy, Hiroshi-kun" Akane sighed wistfully. "If it wasn't for Ranma..." She left it hanging and then leaned back in her seat, a devilish grin on her face. "Some girl is gonna be very lucky though," she stated, winking at Mio.  
Hiroshi was lost, as usual. And, with the snickering and knowing looks from both Sayuri and Daisuke, it was the only reason Mio was not blushing furiously. She wanted desperately to disappear. Mortified, she was waiting nervously for Hiroshi to turn to her and tell her that she was dreaming. But he didn't, only asking for the joke to be explained. Was Hiroshi that dense? Mio didn't think so.   
Looking over at her, his eyes puzzled, he asked her, "What is so funny? Was it something I said, Mio? And why are you blushing? Is it too hot in here?"  
Mio's courage fled from her like winter from the coming of spring. Hurriedly pushing herself to her feet, Mio excused herself for a moment in order to freshen up. Akane's tinkling laughter followed her to the restroom.  
She was gone longer than a moment, but she returned to a more sedate table, much to her relief.  
"So you're really going to keep the baby?" Sayuri asked as Mio walked up to the table.  
"I'm not sure," Akane answered. She glanced up at Mio and smiled, mouthing the words I'm sorry. "I guess, I just don't want to make a decision until Ranma comes back."  
Accepting the apology, Mio answered with her own shy smile as Daisuke and Sayuri made room for her across from Hiroshi. He winked at her as she took her seat bringing more colour to her cheeks.  
"So you're just ignoring it?" Sayuri asked. "Is that wise?"  
"Of course I'm not ignoring it," Akane said. "I'm just not making any decisions yet. Actually, I'm going to get an ultrasound in..." she checked her watch, "about an hour."  
"Hontoo!?"  
"Hai, Toufu-sensei thought it would be a good idea."  
"Will you bring the picture to school tomorrow?" Sayuri asked eagerly, her eyes alight.  
"Why?" Daisuke asked curiously.  
"Huh?"  
"Why, Sayuri? I mean, I remember when my mom was pregnant with my sister. She had an ultrasound like twelve weeks in and there really wasn't much to see, just some black and white stuff and a red circle the doctor drew in around a black smudge. I mean it isn't that important...oofff!"  
"Not that important!" Sayuri demanded as Daisuke groaned and grasped his side. "Men! You are all so hopeless. Don't you know anything about women and babies."  
"Give us a break," Hiroshi grinned. "Ranma never tells us anything."  
"Exactly! You know nothing!" Sayuri said triumphantly, and then blinked. "Ranma?"  
"Well, he does have that curse," Hiroshi explained.  
Sayuri groaned and placed her head on the table, her black hair spreading in a fan across the polished wood.  
"You mean he doesn't know?" Hiroshi and Daisuke asked incredulously.  
"Of course not," Akane said. "At least I don't think he does. He really doesn't like being a girl, and I'd assume he's more terrified of becoming pregnant, even if he could, than anything else."  
"Sheesh," Daisuke sighed. "He's wasting a perfectly good opportunity. I mean, if I turned into a girl, I'd..."  
"You'd what?" Sayuri asked dangerously.  
"Um... actually... why don't I drop this."  
"Do." She elbowed him again, playfully this time. "Pervert."  
"Mio?"   
"Yes, Hiroshi."  
"Do you know what Sayuri is trying so hard to tell us boys about?"  
"Sort of," Mio answered softly. "Girls are brought up knowing that they can have children. We just think about it, not always, but we play games about caring for kids, and in general just wait for the real thing to come along. It's not always like that, but Sayuri is getting a chance to have a crack at pregnancy second-hand. It is almost as good as first- hand, and to some women even better. Does that help?"  
"Not in the least, but I'll believe you."  
Mio smiled and blushed as she dropped her head.  
"Are we going to eat?" Akane asked suddenly. "I've gotta leave soon, and Mio is coming with me."  
"Gomen," Hiroshi apologized. "Megumi, can you take our order."  
The raven-haired waitress was next to their table a moment later. Hiroshi quickly ordered for Mio, Daisuke, and Sayuri and then looked at Akane. "What do you want? I forgot to ask, but you usually get the seafood, don't you?"  
"No, but that sounds fine. Just a small one though. I'm really to nervous to eat."  
"Okay, one small seafood with that and five Cokes, Megumi."  
"No problem, Hiroshi-san. It'll be just a few minutes while Konatsu- san gets them."  
"Doumo."  
"Hiroshi-san?" Akane asked as the girl left.  
"Uh... yeah."  
"I thought you weren't seeing anyone."  
"I'm not," Hiroshi protested, his eyes flickering toward Mio and then back to Akane, who was glowering at him. "I met her on her first day. She was a little nervous, and I thought she could use a friend. Konatsu was a wreck with Ukyou gone, and so I helped her out a bit."  
"Ukyou's gone?" Akane demanded, her fists clenching in anger.  
"Yeah, she left a few weeks ago, right after Ranma left," Hiroshi responed a little perplexed. "I thought you knew."  
"Konatsu!" Akane screamed.  
Mio winced at the volume, but it got results. Konatsu was at their table a moment later, followed by every eye in the restaurant.   
"Hai, Akane-san." The kunnoichi smiled nervously and smoothed the loose clothing he was wearing. "Is something wrong?"  
"Where is Ukyou?"  
"She's out taking care of business. She'll be back in a few weeks. I can do anything she can, if that's what you're worried about," Konatsu smiled reassuringly, but let it drop in the face of Akane's glare.  
"You had better tell me that she is in Taiwan right now."  
"Ah, actually, she is in Hong Kong. At least, that is what she told me last night when she called."  
"Do you know why she is there?" Akane asked her voice sinking to a low whisper, hopeful yet certain of the truth.  
Konatsu prevaricated, stepping from one foot to the other for a few moments. When he looked up their was indecision etched across his feminine features. He opened his mouth to speak, but Akane interrupted.  
"The truth, please. I need to know."  
Konatsu hung his head. "She's looking for Ranma. She says he should show up in Hong Kong pretty soon."  
Konatsu fell silent, waiting. Everyone waited, including Mio. They waited for the explosion. They dreaded the onslaught of the famous Tendou Akane anger that leveled buildings and could crush one of the most powerful martial artists with the negligent blow of a giant swatting a fly. It never came.  
Akane was watching the table, her eyes empty, her body still.  
"Akane?" Mio asked worriedly  
"Thank you, Konatsu," Akane said, her voice firm but emotionless. "Could you please get our food."  
"Hai." The kunnoichi disappeared back to the counter, obviously feeling safer with a counter and a good two dozen feet of table-filled floor between himself and Akane.  
"Akane, are you okay?" Mio asked.  
"I was expecting you to blow," Sayuri commented softly, delicately.  
"Why shouldn't I be?"  
"Well Ukyou is going after Ranma," Hiroshi stated. "And you're not engaged anymore. And..."  
"I'm fine!" Akane snapped. "Ukyou can do what she wants. She has been chasing Ranma for ten years. She never caught him, and she never will. There is nothing to worry about except her own safety. If Shampoo catches her, she is going to be in trouble."  
Mio knew Akane was lying, but there was nothing she could do about it. Akane needed to deal with everything in her own way, and if lying to herself was easier than facing the truth then so be it. Mio decided to let the subject die for the moment. The others seemed to unconsciously agree as the topic shifted back to Akane's pregnancy and Sayuri's desire to see the ultrasound and the possibility of a baby shower.  
Akane protested a bit, mostly for show, until the food arrived. They ate quickly, and in silence. Akane finished first and waited impatiently for Mio to finish. Knowing Akane was edgy, Mio pushed away more than half of her okonomiyaki and said her good-byes to the group as she and Akane started toward the door.   
As they walked out the door, Akane leaned against Mio and whispered, "Thank you. Thanks for supporting me. I just don't want to deal with that today."  
"I understand," Mio said. She did. There were days when she felt reality was just too real to be anything but a bad nightmare that had to be ignored. Akane was having a week like that, and Mio wasn't about to begrudge Akane her peace of mind for the moment. Together they made their way toward the hospital.  
  
~~9~~  
  
Saotome Nodoka was a woman most would consider to have done well for herself. At thirty-four, she had overcome the stumbling block of marriage at the age of sixteen and a child at seventeen. She had finally come into the prime of her beauty. Her reddish brown hair, though done up in a conservative bun, accented her green eyes and slightly olive-toned skin and made her the object of dozens of suitors in the past few years. Of course that was not all the suitors were after.  
Stopping beside a small shop of spices and fragrances, Nodoka plucked a bag of crushed rose and saffron from the table and brought it to her nose. The smell was heavenly and a small smile crept across her lips, but it never reached her eyes.  
Unlike most people, Saotome Nodoka had the uncanny ability of turning woes and setbacks into gains. She had been twenty-two when her husband took Ranma from their home. In the next two years, he returned a dozen times, most in the first year, but he never brought money. To keep herself out of debt, Nodoka swallowed her pride and took a part-time job. Yet even that money barely supported her with the essentials of life.   
Too prideful to beg money from her parents, she tricked her husband instead. When he returned for a short rest, she allowed him to drink himself into a stupor. From there, it was simpler than miso soup to get her hands on her dowry. Three signatures later, she was done and very well off. Her parents had never been short of money, and they had offered the dowry as more of a security blanket to their only daughter upon her marriage to what they considered a very undesirable suitor.   
In the past years, Nodoka often had wondered if her parents had been right and her marriage had not been the joyful event that she believed it to have been. True, she had been pregnant with Ranma. True, she had loved, and still loved, Genma. But today, she was alone with nothing but her memories. Memories that seemed to fade as the years passed like days adrift at sea did, slow, empty, and only sustained by hope.  
But she never gave up hope. She might put aside her katana at home. She could lay aside her pride to make ends meet, but the locket holding her son's picture hung about her neck as permanent as the starry heavens, as reassuring as Ranma's actual presence might be.  
Her life centered around her child, like any good Japanese mother's life should. Even if he wasn't there, she prepared for him. She made enough from part-time jobs to live on, but when she finally claimed her dowry, instead of paying off her husband's massive debts and indulging herself, she handed the money over to a member of the Tokyo Financial Group who was willing to invest her money in stocks and properties for a seven and a half percent commission on all profits, with a bonus every time he doubled the amount invested.   
If Nakamoto Takeshi was robbing her with that commission, she did not know, nor did she care. They were both satisfied with the arrangement. Her portfolio was growing steadily, despite paying off all of her husband's and some of her own debts. As a sign of her good fortune, she was able to take a healthy stipend out of the profits to live on and be able to cover the payments on the four small boarding houses she maintained and used to supplement her income.   
The boarding houses were Nakamoto-san's idea, as most of her good finacial decisions were. Even if she hadn't agreed with the idea, at the time, she had been too grief-striken to do anything but sign the papers.   
It was a few days before Ranma's tenth birthday when Nodoka received word that her parent's small plane had gone down in the mountains of Hokkaido during a storm. For three days, she waited while the storm raged for any news, but they couldn't get anyone in to search.  
Ranma's birthday came, and she was alone in her small home in Tachikawa, barely ten kilometers from the outskirts of Tokyo. Although her son was gone, she still celebrated it as if it were a religious holiday. And, like a religious holiday, every year she celebrated the same way. She would greet the dawn with a simple breakfast and then go to her son's old room with a single wrapped gift and put it on his bed with the gifts from the previous years. Some were from her parents, some from Genma's parents, though those had ceased to come after Ranma's eighth birthday.  
The small room was clean and tidy. The drawers were all neatly filled with folded clothes, and his old toys were arranged neatly on the shelf. She often wondered if it would be more comforting if she left the room a mess, but she just could not bring herself to do that. Dozens of brightly wrapped boxes with ribbons and bows, stenciled with flying lizards, giant robots, starships, and martial artists were neatly arrayed on the small bed. Almost reverently, she placed the new gift in the center of the bed.   
The quilt was cold under her hands, absent of the smell of a young boy who laughed and played and came to her for love and comfort. So empty. So very empty...  
She had promised herself that she wouldn't cry, like she did every year. But the tears came anyway, cascading down her cheeks to dampen the unused quilt on her lost son's bed. She cried for her son. She cried for her husband. For the love she needed, for the emptiness she felt. Her tears were of worry for her parents, of uncertainty for her future. But mostly she cried for herself, for the life she desired and had been denied.  
It was into this scene that the sound of the phone intruded, demand- ing her attention with a voice as incessant and commanding as a babe's lusty wail. No longer crying outwardly, Nodoka walked from the small bedroom, gently nudging the door as she passed it, sending it slowly swinging shut. The small kitchen was down the hall to the right, and the living area where the phone sat upon a small table was next to the kitchen.  
Lifting the receiver, a voice asked if she was Saotome Nodoka. She answered in the affirmative. The voice gave her its condolences and told her that it was sorry to say that her parents and the other passengers were all dead. There had been no survivors.  
She crumpled in on herself like a flower closing its petals for protection. The phone tumbled to the wooden floor. The voice called for her, but she was alone. Alone and unloved. Alone with no one but the ghostly memories of her husband and her son. Down the hall, the door to Ranma's room latched to never be opened again.  
Four days later the memorial and the cremation were held. She alone was related to the deceased. All the others were friends of her parents, associates in her father's business. Through all the empty words of condolences, she felt like an actor, her face painted upon her like a Noh mask as she mumbled her own responses to each person who touched her shoulder, held her hand, lowered their eyes and spoke words that would never heal the hurt within her heart.  
Her ancestral home became hers. Truthfully, it was given to her son. Upon his birth, Ranma had become the heir to the entire Ishizaki family. All the money belonged to her son. She was only there to watch over it and to make sure he received it at some point.   
She did very little with the inheritance, turning it over to Nakamoto. She trusted him, and he protected her son's financial interests where she could not. Only a little of the money did she take for herself, just so she could have something important in her life. Nakamoto pushed her into selling most of her family's real estate holdings, only keeping a few boarding houses which she could care for and maintain herself.   
In truth, it was the boarding houses that brought her to Nerima this day. Over the last three years she had slowly sold off the houses until she only owned four. After today, she was hoping to own only three. It was enough for her. She was simply not disposed to dealing with the tenants boarding houses attracted, especially one this near a college. For some reason, college students always were the most problematic of tenants.  
Of course that was not the only reason. She had been made an offer, and she had to make a decision. In the past, she had used the house as an excuse to see if her son was at the Tendou dojo. It was only a few blocks from the house to the Tendou dojo, but he was never there. It was as if he were hiding from her, did not love her, or was ashamed to meet her. Maybe it was all three.  
The Tendou's always tried to explain her son's absence. At first she had believed them, but lies become stale after a time. Their eyes spoke different words than their voices. Their eyes held fear, especially those of her son's fiancee. They were protecting her son, harbouring him, and it hurt her. It was obvious he did not wish her to be in his life. She just wished that he might have told her, spoken to her and reassured her that it wasn't her fault. But she knew it was. She had let her husband raise him. She had given him up at that moment.  
For the last two and a half months she had avoided the Tendou house- hold because she feared the truth. She had put the boarding house up for sale. Now, she finally had to decide whether to sever the final ties with her son. If her husband and her son were going to hide from her...  
A movement caught her attention. She had been so involved in her thoughts that she was still in front of the small shop, although she had turned to face the bath house. The movement was actually a commotion in front of the bath house. Distantly, she could hear the shrieks of women and then a small figure bounded out of the front door, a bag over his shoulder. He was gone before she could see who it was, but she knew the type. One of those perverted men who took vicarious pleasure from viewing women and stealing their undergarments.  
What surprised her was the next two people who came stumbling out of the bath house, followed by a deluge of soap and brushes. She recognized both of the men. Tendou Soun and her vagrant husband. Picking himself off the ground, Soun began to march toward his home. Behind him, Genma wearily lifted himself from the ground and followed his friend, his shoulders slumped and his face empty of expression.  
The shock of seeing her husband after so many years, froze Nodoka, and when she finally was able to move, her husband was disappearing down the crowded street. For a moment she considered following, but years had tempered her heart. She was no longer the love-sick mooncalf of a girl she had been. She had a meeting to attend.   
But, if her husband was around, did that mean that he son was at the Tendou dojo? Maybe, but did he want to see her?   
Fighting back tears, Nodoka continued walking toward her destination. She knew she should try to find her son again if only to know for sure that he loved her, or didn't want her in his life. But she was terrified of the answer she would get, so she simply continued to walk down the streets of Nerima.   
It took only a few minutes to reach her destination, a two-storey house just outside the main business district. Although it was home to her rowdiest tenants, she loved the house itself. It had been built by an American officer after World War II. It was a beautiful creation of southern colonial American architecture. An expansive front porch with four columns supporting it. A chimney of red brick on either end. The house was white, a pure shining white with ivy crawling up the sides. A few small plots of flowers dotted the front yard and along the short stone path that lead from the iron gate to the front steps. The windows on the sides of the first floor were bay windows, and two large picture windows flanked the large double, oak doors.  
Opening the gate, Nodoka walked up to the front door, trying to remember who was going to meet her. She wasn't sure if it was going to be Yoshioka-san. He had been promoted in his company recently, and he might have sent someone else to finish the deal. Opening the door, she walked through the entryway and into the main entrance hall. A stairway spiraled up from the polished oak floors to the second level where the bedrooms were. On her right was the manager's room and study. Next to that was the door to the kitchen. On her left was the reception room, where she was to meet her buyer.  
The pocket door was partially ajar, leaving enough room for her to slip around it. She did so, and was pleased to see Yoshioka Satoru facing the door. He was talking to a young woman with brown hair. Her back was turned toward Nodoka obscuring the face, but Nodoka thought she recognized the girl.   
"Ah, there you are," Yoshioka-san stated as she entered. "I was wondering when you would get here."  
"I'm sorry I was late. I got delayed in town."  
"Auntie?"  
The familiar voice startled Nodoka. Looking over, she found Nabiki staring at her with wide eyes. "What are you doing here, Nabiki-chan?"  
"I could ask the same of you, Saotome-obasan," Nabiki replied.  
"I own this house," Nodoka replied with a slight smile at the dumbfounded Nabiki. Maybe she would go visit the Tendou's tonight.  
  
~~*~~  
  
"I'm home!"  
"Dinner's almost ready, Nabiki," Kasumi responded from the kitchen as she set the soup to simmer and turned to the cutting board. She had decided to prepare some sushi that evening. Although it was mostly vegetable, she had found the money to buy some amaebi. Akane adored the sweet shrimp, and her sister could use some cheering up. The expense was worth it to see just a hint of a smile from Akane.  
"I brought someone for dinner, if it is no inconvenience." Nabiki's voice was louder, announcing her approach to the kitchen.  
"That is okay, Nabiki-chan. Otousan and Saotome-ojisan are not going to be here for dinner, something came up and they went out earlier. It'll just be Akane and us, so we'll have plenty of room."  
"And where is my son?"  
Although surprised, Kasumi only smiled and turned her head to nod at the beautiful woman waiting expectantly in the door. "He won't be with us tonight, Saotome-obasan."  
"Why?"  
Behind Ranma's mother, Nabiki was mouthing for Kasumi to feign ignorance, but Kasumi was not easily daunted from her perceived duties. Ranma was now, more than ever before, and irrevocable member of the family. His interests were hers, and his mother was a very important facet of his continued growth. At least it would be when he returned, and without him around, it was easier to work around him.  
"Would you like to help me cook?" Kasumi asked politely. "I find it is easier to talk when my hands are busy."  
Nodoka took the suggestion. "I agree. Idle hands make for idle minds, as my mother told me many times. I would be honoured to help you finish dinner." She turned to Nabiki. "Thank you very much for keeping me company on the way here. Would you like to join us?"  
Nabiki contemplated her options for a moment, and decided that eavesdropping was the safer of them. She was not cut out for cooking, and her sister and Ranma's mother could easily manipulate her out of the kitchen at any time. "I have some work to do, Auntie. I'm sure you understand."  
"Of course, dear. Would you please excuse me, Nabiki-chan?" And with that, Nodoka set down her packages, slipped into an apron, and joined Kasumi at the counter. Nabiki snuck back down the hall, and settled herself into a chair and grabbed a nearby book, listening to the sounds from the kitchen.   
"Could you mix up the ginger sauce and put the tofu cubes in the soup, Saotome-obasan?"  
"How strong do you make the ginger sauce, usually?"  
"Not too strong, but some extra ginger would be good. Akane's been sick recently, and it helps."  
"Oh, does she have a flu?"  
"No," Kasumi responded, biting her lip as she sliced a cucumber in half length-wise and then again for each half. "It's mostly nerves and some depression."  
"Is it because of my son?" Nodoka asked intuitively.   
Nabiki heard no response, but the quick chopping of the knife told her that her sister was searching for a safe answer. The silence persisted for a moment.  
"Yes, and no."  
There was the slithery plop of tofu sliding into water. "That is not an answer, Kasumi-chan."  
"I know, Saotome-san, but I can't tell you more. Akane and Ranma asked me not to."  
For a time, there was only the sound of cooking. Utensils against cutting boards and pots, the bubbling of liquid and the scintillating scent of delicious food.   
"My son is hiding from me, Kasumi-chan, isn't he?"  
"Hai," Kasumi responded in a small voice.  
"I see. So why did you call me that first time and tell me that my husband and son were staying at your home?" Nabiki gasped in surprise. Not even she had known how Nodoka had found out Ranma was here. She had always thought it had been Ranma himself who had invited her over that first time and then chickened out because of his father. "Did you just want to show me that you are a better mother than I was?"  
"No, no, Saotome-san!" Kasumi protested. "I never meant for you to get hurt. Ranma wanted to see his mother so badly. He would talk about you a lot, just those memories he had. He didn't say he wanted to see you, but Ranma never asks for anything. I thought it would be nice. He didn't even know until you sent that letter to him and your husband."  
"I'm sorry, Kasumi-chan. That last comment was uncalled for, but you must understand how much this hurts me. It is hard for me to understand his motives. I can understand his father's reticence, but if he wanted to meet me so much, then why wasn't they here?" Nodoka demanded, her voice catching. "Is he ashamed of me? Doesn't he love? Please, tell me. I have to know, Kasumi-chan." The sounds from the kitchen ceased, only the aroma and the sound of simmering water wafted on the air. The cars in the street were loud and contended with the Yamaguchi children next door as they laughed and played some silly game.  
"He loves you very much, Saotome-san. But he was raised by your husband. I do not know how your husband was before, but he is a man ruled by his fears and his insecurities. He is barely a man, preferring to hide more than face the world. He is irresponsible, belligerent, conniving, and unable to own up to anything he has ever done."  
Sighing regretfully, Nodoka said, "I had hoped that raising a child would remove some of those habits from him. For a time, I had washed him of them, but I guess it was never to be. And now, I assume, my son is like him also."  
"In some ways, yes. I cannot deny that. I wish I could, but he is not perfect. Like his father, he hides from himself, and his duties and responsibilities. In others, however, he would make you so proud. He wants so much to do what is right, but it seems that no one will ever give him a choice that is right. Everything he does seems to hurt someone, so he doesn't do anything. He doesn't do it from fear of growing up but out of fear of making a mistake. I believe he truly wants to be held accountable for his actions, but he does not know how to start. He is afraid and very tired of hurting people. His friends, Akane, and you."  
"Me? He could never hurt me."  
"He doesn't want to disappoint you. He is terrified that you won't love him, that you don't want him, that you will never be proud of who he is. He knows of his faults, and tries to deny them, but he still knows they are there. He just does not know how to be himself, how to trust someone and let go of the control he strives for."  
"That cannot be all of the reason," Nodoka said. "You've told him of me. You must have tried to convince him that I love him."  
"He knows you love him. Actually, you have met him several times."  
"How?"  
"I'm sorry. I cannot tell you. I would if I could, but I don't feel right telling you. It is something, I think, that he needs to come to grips with himself."  
"I see," Nodoka breathed, though her tone obviously stated that she did not. "But, why didn't you tell me this earlier? Why keep me waiting so long? He is my son!"  
"I promised my father not to tell you. I'm sorry, Saotome-san. I wanted to tell you, but I cannot disobey my father."  
"I understand, Kasumi. I forgive you."  
"Arigatou gozaimasu, Saotome-san."  
"Nodoka, dear. We are both grown women. We should behave like them. I don't want you to think that you cannot talk to me. Besides, I think you probably know more about being mother than I do."  
Nabiki heard the playful tone in Nodoka's voice, but for some reason her sister did not answer. Instead, the knife began to fall again in the rhythmic click of snares in a parade.   
"Did I say something wrong?"  
"No, Auntie. I'm having some problems with the family right now, and I am not doing a very good job dealing with them."   
"Raising a family is never easy. Five years of it taught me that lesson well. Sometimes you just have to hope and allow the kami to work everything out. It might not be for the best, but things will get better. They always do."  
"I'm not so sure,' Kasumi said. "I didn't even realize what was happening. I completely missed it because I was too worried about making sure the house was in order. I try to keep up with everyone, but it gets so hard. There is just too much insanity that revolves around your son for me to keep track of everything. No matter how hard I try, I miss more than half of everything that happens around here."  
"Would you like me to talk to my son?" Nodoka asked eagerly. "I want to meet him anyway. I can talk to him tomorrow if he isn't going to be here tonight."  
"I don't think that will be possible. Could you please hand me the rice cooker. I need to start rolling these."  
"Here you go, Kasumi dear." The scrape of the legs on the rice cooker filled the kitchen for a moment, and then the clink of the glass lid on the counter top followed. "You said my son will not be here tonight, and it sounds like he won't be here tomorrow. When will he be back?"  
"I don't know. I really don't know."  
"Kasumi, I thought we had an understanding. Every time I am here, I hear the same words. 'He is gone on a training trip and we don't know when he'll be back.' Now where is he?" Nabiki had not heard that tone of voice since she had stolen a thousand yen from her own mother for some candy.  
"China. I think he's in China," Kasumi answered in a trembling voice. "But I'm not sure. I really don't know. You'd have to ask Akane, or Nabiki. They know more. I wish I did, Saotome-san. I really wish I did. Please believe me!" Kasumi begged in a tearful voice.  
"Kasumi-chan. Oh, I am so sorry. I did not mean to sound so harsh. I know it is not your fault."  
"Yes it is! I'm responsible for them. I promised Okaasan that I'd take care of them, and I'm not doing a good enough job!" Kasumi wailed.  
Nabiki wanted to leave. In most cases she would listen to any conversation, Kasumi's fears and insecurities were not one with which she felt comfortable. To disappear into her room and shut the world out was a better option than suffering through her older sister crying. Staying and hearing the pain of the sister who always wore a smile and never doubted anyone was worse than a burning chunk of metal eating a hole through her chest.   
"Kasumi, why don't we talk. Tell me what is going on in this house. I have known you for nearly a year. This is not like you. Even with the weird things that seem to follow everyone around in this house, you've never been this upset. What is wrong?"  
"I don't know where to even start."  
"Try the beginning, or the closest thing to the beginning you can."  
"Okay," Kasumi said and then took a deep breath to calm herself. "I told you that Ranma doesn't want to change things."  
"Yes. I'm not sure I understand it, nor do I agree with it, but if that is how he is, I'll deal with it later."  
"You don't need to deal with it, Nodoka-san. Ranma changed everything about two months ago."  
"What do you mean?"  
"I don't know the whole story, and I can't tell you half of what I know because Akane would never trust me again if I did."  
"I understand, Kasumi-chan," Nodoka comforted, her voice soothing like a wind chime. "Tell me what you think you can."  
"About two months ago, Ranma went to the hospital."  
"What?" Nodoka gasped. "Why didn't my husband tell me?"  
"I don't know, and I'm sorry, but I just didn't think of telling you. Everything just changed that day. Ranma and Akane stopped fighting and everything seemed to be going fine. Everything was fine. They were happy together, so very happy. I'd never seen them like that. It was like the last year and a half had been forgotten and forgiven.  
"I should have known that it would never last, but I never expected what happened. One night, they came home, laughing and smiling from a date. They just walked into the family room and told everyone that they had an announcement."  
"They finally decided to get married?" Nodoka asked hopefully.  
"That's what Otousan and Saotome-san thought. Even I was surprised when they told everyone that their engagement was off."  
Nabiki was distracted by the front door, so she missed Nodoka's response. About to go check who was home, in the hopes of maybe getting some money from Saotome, Nabiki stopped herself as she saw Akane walk down the hall toward the kitchen. She had a smile on her face and a folder in her hands. Compared to the Akane that had haunted the house for the past few weeks, this one was almost bubbling. Her steps were light, and her eyes were shining. The doubt and questions that usually flashed across her face were gone, replaced with a distant and obscure expression, which Nabiki could only assume was joy.  
"But Nodoka-san," Kasumi protested loudly. "He was just doing what he thought was right. Saotome-ojisan had no right to treat him like that. He did the only thing that would have saved his and Akane's relationship."  
"That may be so, Kasumi, but he still broke his father's word and the honour of our family. Even if it was the right thing for him and Akane, it was the wrong choice. I would have been forced to throw him out of my house. You are lucky that your father allowed him to stay on your property. What he did is beyond excuse! I argued and argued with my husband when told of this engagement, and even went to speak with your mother. She liked it no better, but your father and my husband insisted, and so we agreed. We had no choice, and neither does my son."  
"But he doesn't deserve what he is going through. What Cologne did to him for turning Shampoo away was horrendous. He is suffering to be with my sister. I know he intends to marry her, but he had to do it his own way. Is that so wrong?"  
"His father promised that he would make my son a man among men. I always regretted making that promise, but I did. I had hoped that my husband would live up to his promise, obviously he has not. You should not worry about this Kasumi. It is a family matter now."  
"But my sister loves him. He is part of this family. Father is giving him a chance. Just give him that. He is trying to make everything right. In a month or two he'll be back and you will see. Don't take him from my sister, Nodoka-san. Please."  
"I have no choice, Kasumi. He is my son. He is the heir to my family name and honour as well as his father's. I cannot let this go. If he must die to regain the honour of our families, then he will. Though I hope that such a thing will not be the case. Either way, your sister has nothing to do with this. My son gave her up, and now he must deal with the consequen- ces. I'm sorry. I wish I could do more. But Akane will have to find someone else to spend her life with."  
A choking sob snapped Nabiki's attention away from her sister and Ranma's mother. Spinning, she saw Akane disappear up the stairs. Glancing back at the kitchen, an anguished expression crossed her face. She wanted to help her sister, but she knew she could fix this mess with Ranma's mother.  
"Nodoka, at least wait until Ranma returns before you make your decision. And there is more that has to be considered. Talk to Nabiki first. Talk to Akane. At least give her a chance to explain things to you. I beg you, if you take Ranma from her, she'll die. I know she will. She can't lose another person in her life. She just can't."  
"Fine. If Akane agrees to talk with me. And I want to talk with my husband and your father also."  
"Not tonight. How about tomorrow, or Sunday. I can make plans for then."   
"That would be fine, Kasumi-chan, but I have obligations this weekend. Next weekend I am free. We will all talk then. But now, why don't we finish dinner. I think we have talked enough for one night."  
Nabiki was already moving upstairs as Kasumi and Nodoka went back to preparing dinner. She just hoped that Akane would listen to reason.  
  
~~10~~  
  
"Shan-pu?"   
Her great-grandmother's voice was muffled by the closed door, but Shampoo still heard it. Folding the last dress and putting it in one of the boxes, Shampoo stood up and went to the door. Opening it, she called out in Mandarin. "Yes, Great-grandmother."  
"Are you packed?"  
"Yes, Great-grandmother. I just have to get my traveling pack together. It'll only take an hour or so."  
"Forget that for now and come down here for a few minutes."  
"Yes, Great-grandmother." Smoothing her dress, Shampoo closed the door and hurried down the stairs to the restaurant proper. Prompt obedience was one of the lessons her great-grandmother had taught her early in life, and she was not about to change that just because she was eager to get to China and Ranma.  
The main dining room was lit by only a few candles, their wavering glow bringing life to the dark shadows and corners of the nearly empty Nekohaten. The pass through to the kitchen shed a low yellow light into a pool on the wooden floor. Through the pass through, Shampoo could see her great-grandmother making a simple repast for the evening. Most likely a soup from the smell. They did not have much food left in the restaurant.  
Stepping through the swinging doors, the warmth of the kitchen surrounded Shampoo, comforting her like the warmth of her bed after rising for a small glass of water. "What can I do for you, Great-grandmother?"  
"Dinner will be ready in a few moments, Shan-pu," Kuh Lon said quietly in Mandarin, her voice crackling with age and wisdom. "But before that, I wanted to talk to you. On the counter over there is your ticket for Hong Kong and your updated passport and papers. You will be leaving tomorrow evening instead of Sunday. Hyu Chin wrote back to me and told me that there is a small complication waiting for you in Hong Kong."  
"Oh," Shan-pu said thoughtfully as she retrieved her ticket and passport from the table. "It is no problem for me. I will make sure that there are no complications."  
"I am sure you will, Great-granddaughter, but I want to make sure."  
"I understand, Great-grandmother," Shan-pu nodded. "But who is Hyu Chin? I do not know her, and what is she doing in Hong Kong?"  
"Hyu Chin is a friend of mine. Could you hand me those bowls, Shan- pu?"  
Shan-pu grabbed two bowls from the counter and passed them to Kuh Lon.   
"Thank you. She is there to help you with Ranma and to make sure he gets to the village on time with no problems."  
"I can get Ranma to the village, Great-grandmother. I am an Amazon," Shan-pu replied indignantly.  
"You are also in love with the fool boy. I am not allowing for any margin of error. As it stands, you will have to be the one to get him out of Hong Kong and started on the journey. For some unknown reason, Hyu Chin has found two people asking about your future husband. I am fairly sure that one is Ryouga, and the other could probably be Kuonji Ukyou."  
"I'll take care of them, Great-grandmother,"Shan-pu bragged confidently.  
"No you will not. Hibiki is a much better martial artist than you, and Ranma will not take kindly to you interfering with the Kuonji girl. Hyu Chin will take care of them. They will not be there when you arrive, and definitely won't be there when Ranma arrives. You will meet Ranma at the airport and make your way directly to the village. Don't go past Jusenkyo, use the southern route through Tibet. It is a little slower, but Hyu Chin will be leading the other two towards Mongolia. She will rejoin you somewhere south of Tibet."  
"Where?"  
"Do you remember the training ground your mother took you to on your fifth birthday, and I on your tenth?"  
"Yes."  
"She will meet you there in three weeks."  
"I understand, Great-grandmother. I will not argue with your wisdom."  
"That is well. Now let us eat and forget about this. You are returning home tomorrow, and we will put this forsaken country behind us for all time."  
  
~~11~~  
  
Nabiki expected Akane to be balled up on her bed, sobbing into her pillow. It just seemed that her usual response these days was to cry. As she opened the door, Nabiki was surprised to find her sister quietly staring out of her window. She was still on her bed, but she was obvi- ously lost in thought as she did not even look up as Nabiki entered the room and walked over to the bed.  
"Ranma's mother didn't mean any of those things, Akane."  
Akane glanced up at her sister and smiled in thanks. "You don't need to lie to me, Oneechan. She meant everything, I know she did."  
"And you're not mad?" Nabiki asked surprised.  
Akane bit back a smile and shook her head. "I guess I am, but it just doesn't seem worth it. Ranma has gone without his mother for so long, and he has given up so much for me that I don't think she has any say in what we do." Akane leaned back against the wall and stretched out her legs so her feet were dangling over the edge of her bed. She patted the spot next to her.  
Taking the suggestion, Nabiki snuggled up to her sister. Akane burrowed into Nabiki's side and rested her head against her sister's shoulder. They were both silent for a moment, Nabiki thinking and Akane just watching the sun through her window. The moment reminded Nabiki of the times they would snuggle up to their mother like this, all those years ago.  
"She was right you know," Akane finally said.  
"About what?" Nabiki asked.  
"Ranma. He gave up everything just so we could get along. I never even really thought about it. I was more worried that he wouldn't take me back. I was just worried about him leaving me, or I always thought of it being an engagement we were forced into. I kept forgetting that he was honour-bound to be my fiancee. I never thought about how much I might mean to him if he was willing to just let it all go like that."  
"I think Ranma surprised us all," Nabiki joked. "I know I was surprised when he showed me that he could think as well as fight."  
"He's very versatile," Akane stated absently.  
"I bet he is," Nabiki replied knowingly.  
"Nabiki! That is none of your business!"  
"I don't know. I could have been his fiancee. I think I'm entitled to know what I'm missing."  
"Forget it, sis. Some things I'm keeping private."  
"Okay, I can respect that. Just tell me why you ran up here crying then. I thought you'd be bawling your eyes out. Even if you aren't making up that last bit, I know you, Akane-chan. You are never this calm. What gives?"  
"I guess I was just surprised. I was so happy. I was having such a good day, except for that time at Ucchan's, but other than that, it was a good day. And then, I come home, and I hear Ranma's mother telling me I don't have any right to be in his life."  
"She didn't exactly say that, Akane."  
"I know, sis," Akane answered, "but it sure came out that way. Anyway, when I got to my room, I thought about crying. I really did, but I just couldn't. It seemed wrong, useless. I've been crying and moping for a month now, and it hasn't helped anything. I just sat down and started thinking about everything."  
Nabiki hugged her sister closely, not trusting herself to speak. She had been waiting for a long time for Akane to realize she was being silly. She could have told her sister that a hundred times in the past weeks, but she found that it wasn't her speech to give. Akane had to find out herself, or else it would just be an empty consolation.  
"I'm glad you finally came to your senses."  
"Actually, Hiroshi brought me to my senses."  
"Masaka!" Nabiki gasped. "Hiroshi had a good idea? Come on, he hangs out with your wandering lover."  
"Yeah, but he is smart. Anyway, I realized that Ranma would either come back or he wouldn't. And if he did, I knew it would be for me. I have to believe that he will. Maybe I'm still crying on the inside, but I just found a way to keep it back."  
"It's called hope, sis. A lot of people use hope to keep going."  
"I know," Akane replied sadly. "And I wish I could forget."  
"What does that mean?" Nabiki asked.  
"Nothing. I'm just talking to myself."  
"Well don't. It makes me worry. I'm just glad your back to your old self. I didn't like who you've been recently."  
"I just wish I could talk to him," Akane lamented absently, oblivious to her sister.   
"What for?"  
"Kunou was right. Ranma doesn't know about my baby. He might end up making a decision he thinks will be the best for me, and he won't even now the whole truth. I'm more afraid of that than anything else. Especially with Ukyou out there looking for him. How hard will it be for Ukyou to convince him that he's only hurting me? That he will only hurt me by coming back?"  
"He might surprise you," Nabiki said. "Like you said, he is very versatile, and very persistent."  
"I just wish I could tell him. I want him to know." Akane leaned forward and picked the folder she had been carrying home with her and opened it up. Out spilled several pieces of paper. "I want him to see this. Akane handed one of the papers to Nabiki.  
Nabiki stared at the arc of black and white for a few moments before a light went on in her head. "Is this your baby?"  
"Hai," Akane agreed and pointed to a red circle around a dark spot on the picture. "He's right there."  
"So it's a boy?"  
"I don't know. I never asked, and they didn't offer."  
"Is this why you are so happy?" Nabiki asked, trying to find some pattern in the picture. She thought she could make out something, but she was not sure.   
"Yes. I actually saw him move on the screen when they did it. It wasn't much, but I saw his heart beat." Her eyes were bright and she was talking quickly. "I'm glad Toufu-sensei forced me to have the ultrasound."  
"I guess this means we're going to have a new member of the family pretty soon," Nabiki grinned.  
"I'm due November third."  
"That's great. Now we just gotta make sure Ranma is back by then."  
"But how?"  
"Write him a letter," Nabiki replied simply.  
"A letter?" Akane asked dubiously.  
"Yes. Write a letter, seal it, and give it to Shampoo with one of these. Tell her that you just wanna apologize to Ranma for the way you treated him and that you didn't hate him or blame him. You've done some acting, I know you can pull it off. Sniffle and get angry every so often. Shampoo'll probably accept just so she can have Ranma know that he has nothing to come back to. You can't lose little sis."   
Akane contemplated her sister's suggestion for a few moments before an evil grin spread across her face. "I'd love to see Shampoo's expression when Ranma reads the letter and shows it to her."  
"It would be a pretty picture. Too bad Ranma doesn't own a camera," Nabiki sighed. "It would've made a great wedding present. Oh well. I can't get everything I want, but you can. Let's get to work on that letter."  
"In a minute, Oneechan," Akane said. "Let's watch the sunset. We haven't done this in a long time."  
Nabiki didn't answer with words. Instead, she slipped her arm about her sister and watched as the sun fell toward the horizon like a flare gently cresting, holding in perfect stillness, and then plummeting down to darkness. The sky burned slowly into pastel oranges and reds firing the thin clouds until a fantasy land hung before their eyes. For an eternity it remained like that, a picture never to be shared again, and then the glowing ball slipped beneath the edge of the world. The clouds deepened to purple and then darkness descended, the stars appearing to vie vainly against the canvas of the brilliant city lights.   
  
~~12~~  
  
"Shampoo?"  
The voice was the last one Shampoo expected to hear. Of all in Nerima, in Japan, she amended, Akane nurtured the greatest reason to despise her. Shampoo had won, though Akane might say stole, Ranma from underneath the girl's nose, and there was nothing that she could do about it. Still, as Akane approached, Shampoo saw none of the belligerence that she expected, and partially accepted, as her due.  
"What does Violent-girl want?" Shampoo demanded hotly.  
Akane stopped short, more than arms length, at the challenging tone. "I want to talk with you. About Ranma."  
"Shampoo have nothing to say. Shampoo have Ranma now. Shampoo win, and Violent-girl lost. Shampoo will never give up her Airen!"  
"How dare you!" Akane accused, her voice rising in pitch. Shampoo took a step back from the rage she saw in her old opponent's eyes. "How dare you even suggest that I would come to beg you for Ranma, that I would go back on my word, the honour of my family! I promised that he was yours. I promised to have nothing to do with him. Isn't that enough for you? How can you stand there and have the audacity to even think such a thing? Unlike some people, I know what honour is."  
"Shampoo know honour. Shampoo know more about it than Violent-girl," Shampoo retorted. "Shampoo win. Ranma agree to it. Shampoo hear with own ears."  
Smugly, Shampoo watched the rage and pain filter through Akane's hazel eyes. Finally, they fell like a swan in flight, killed as she flew beside her mate. "I didn't come here to fight. I really didn't, Shampoo. But I hate you. I'll never forgive you, never call you my friend. I will never, ever let your name cross my lips without a curse attached to it."  
"Shampoo understand. Shampoo expect nothing less. But Shampoo want to know why Akane come here."   
"I hate you, Shampoo, but I don't want Ranma to hate me. I don't want him to think I hate him."  
"What that have to do with Shampoo?"  
"Please, just listen. If you have anything to do with it, I'll never see him again." Shampoo watched in surprise as a tear fell from Akane's lowered face to splash on the ground. Another soon followed. "I wanted to say goodbye, but he left. I wanted to tell him so much. You won, but I deserve one last request. It is only right."  
"Shampoo agree, but only if it doesn't involve more fighting for Airen."  
"Thank you," Akane said, wiping her eyes. From her school bag, she pulled an envelope and handed it to Shampoo. Shampoo saw Ranma's name written on it in carefully crafted kanji. "Please deliver this to him. That is all I ask. Let him read this the moment you see him. Please," she begged. She lifted her face as she firmly clasped Shampoo's hand. Her eyes were glistening with tears and her face was drawn up into the anguished mask of a grieving lover. It was beyond Shampoo to refuse.   
"Akane good opponent. Shampoo sorry it ended like this. Shampoo take letter to Airen. Shampoo promise on the honour of Amazon tribe."  
"Thank you," Akane answered. "Take good care of him." Then she turned and left, her steps quick as she hurried down the street.  
Shampoo watched as Akane disappeared into the crowd. She took the thick envelope and slipped it into her traveling pack. Slinging the pack over her shoulder, she hailed a taxi and slipped into the rear seat. As the taxi pulled away, Shampoo's head fell to her chest and tears began to fall against her will. She had lost everything to gain a man, and she would never be sure that her decision was the right one.   
  
Author's Notes:  
  
--Translations--   
  
RELATIONS AND TITLES:  
  
Otousan/otousama - father Okaasan - mother oneechan/neechan - older sister imoto - younger sister oniisan - older brother oyaji - old man, disrespectful form of father jiji - very disrespectful term for an older man ojisan - older man or uncle obaasan - older woman or aunt obaba - grandmother hiibaachan - great-grandmother same musume - daughter tsuma or kanai - one's own wife otto or shujin - husband -san - everday ending for a name. Takes place of Mister, Ms,or Mrs. -kun - more informal ending, used to refer to subordinates or friends -chan - ending that denotes affection or can mean little on a pet. Used   
mostly for children and teenage girls -sama - very respectful. Like Lord or Lady. Means you are less than them sensei - master, teacher, doctor, or officer. -sempai - generally an older person, more of a mentor than anything  
  
OTHERS:  
  
kissaten - coffe house, tea house hajimemashite - customary greeting the first time people meet. It means,   
basically, it is nice to meet you doozo yoroshiku - customary part of gretting. Meansbasically, please regard  
me favourably. Note: there are several different introduction orders   
but they all involve this phrase and the one above. Often meishi   
(business cards) are exchanged at the same time. En-go - go-between. The honourable relatiuonship. It is not considered   
proper to approach someone unless someone else acts as a go-between a  
mediator who knows both parties. Being a go-between is big business   
in Japan. sukebe - pervert otoko - male onna - female otoko no hito - man onna no hito - girl Soo-desu - It is so - or - that is so Hai - yes Iie - no masaka - impossible wa - center. A state of meditatvie trance. fuwa - discord, the opposite of wa ki - soul chi - energy of the soul and life sakura - cheery blossoms -fu - as in Okayama-fu, means Prefecture -ji - means temple, so Sansui-ji is the Temple of Sansui zabuton - the pillows that Japanese kneel on when they are at a table  
or in a seiza position seiza - position of kneeling tatami - floor mats, these are made of tightly woven reeds or rice. A   
room's size is usually indicated by the number of tatami, i.e. a 6  
tatami room shoji - rice paper doors, light and airy. Shogi - Japanese form of chess Go - a Japanese game involving black and white stones where you try to   
turn as many stones to your color as possible cha - tea chasen - the bamboo wisk used to prepare the tea in the chawan chawan - the tea bowl cha-no-yu - proper name for the Tea Ceremony gomen/gomen nasai - sorry arigato - thank you ne - a term similar to Right? Or eh? Denotes question requiring an   
affirmative answer. ja (dewa) mata - well, again... sort of like see ya later sayonara - good bye shitsuree shimasu - exuse me - good bye oyasuminasai - good night ohayo - good morning konnichi wa - good afternoon (used until 5pm) konban wa - good evening sumimasen - pardon me and in some cases thank you meiyo - honour ai - love soshite - and (used for sentences, but I misused it and don't want to   
change it) Of course, as I thought about it, I realized it still   
worked as a kind of progression. Soshite literally means "and then"   
so the title could be translated as a type of journey, honour, love,   
and then hate. Of course, that is pushing it. nikushimi - hate  
  
I didn't use all of them, but I'm trying to compile a section of commonly used words in my fics...   
  
Author's Notes:  
  
First off, I would like to give my sincerest thanks to all of my pre- readers. It is a time consuming job to read through my works and find mistakes, and there are a lot of them. Shelley, Jon, Ryan, The Blood Phoenix, Dave Eddy, the Rams, and Rea are a great help. I'd especially like to thank Rea and Dave who probably have shredded most of the story between the two of them. And to Shelley who forces me to think about the reasons behind my characterization and writing. I'll never look at Nabiki the same way because of her.  
  
Now that I have thouroughly embarrassed, or ego-boosted, those whom have helped me. I should turn it over to commenting on the story, or rambling depending on my mind-set. Since it is not midnight, when I usually write these notes, I think I'll talk about the story.  
Most of you have probably guessed that I am in an alternate reality. I think I've mentioned it before, but I can never be sure. I basically skipped Manga 34 and 36 and any other part of the manga that dealt with Ranma's reconcilliation with his mother. I did this mostly for plot reasons. I have considered, several times, going back and changing that, but I didn't. Also, you'll notice that the Saffron story is not really a reality in this fiction. I guess it resolved way too much stuff, and I didn't want anything resolved when I started. However, I am rewriting this series, slightly, so that might change in the future when I post to RAAC.  
And yes, at some point in my life I will put this monstrosity on RAAC. Just not right now. I have a lot of fixing to do.  
Anyway, as you noticed, this is the longest singular post I have ever done, topping the scales at near 150K. I did this for several reasons. I had a lot to cover, and I never found a breaking ppoint that I liked enough to actually use.   
This part concludes the Nerima sgment of the stor for a while. I now move on to deal with Ranma, Mousse, Shampoo, Ryouga, and Ukyou. The next part concludes the Separate Paths chapter and will seque into the next chapter.   
I would like to also express my thanks to those of you who have read this far into the series, and this far into the author's notes. I've gotten a lot of positive response on this series, and I hoep to continue producing it at a quality that deserves that kind of response. I never made any pretense that I was doing this more for myself than for any interest in havin my work apprecated, although I do enjoy the ego-boost every so often, I must admit that the reception of my story by many has given me a greater desire to make sure that you like it more than I do. And I thank you very much for making me want to do that.  
I will hurry on the next part., I promise it won't take two and a half months to complete. I was just completely drowned by work , schoool, and other aspects of my life. I've cut down on some of it, si I hope it will make the writing easier.   
  
Note: The Legacy is just sitting on the backburner. I've just not had time to look at it recently. I'll get to it though. Don't worry. Actually, I've promised to have the next art out by January 16, I think I'm being ambitious, but I'll try.  
  
Until next time  
Joseph A. Kohle  
  
Watch for the Next installment of MASN.  
Chapter 5 Separate Paths: Part 9 - Facing Oblivion  
  
----*----*----*----*----*----*----*----*----*----  
All rights and priveleges to Ranma Nibunnoichi   
belong to Rumiko Takahashi. The characters of her   
series are used without her permission for the   
purpose of entertainment only. This work of fic-  
tion is not meant for sale or profit.   
  
All original characters are the creation of the  
author. All copyright privileges to these chara-  
cters are reserved for the author.  
  
This story is a product of the author's hard work   
and imagination. Do not modify, add to, or make   
use of any part of this work without the author's   
knowing and written consent. Please feel free to archive   
this work.   
  
Comments and criticism are welcome.   
Written by Joseph A. Kohle, (c) 1997.   
Send all comments to ashira@worldnet.att.net  
Find some of my fanfics at   
http://www.geocities.com/Tokyo/Flats/6184/ 


	22. Vol 4 Chap 9

tHIS IS THE rough draft of the first part of Ch 9. I will correct it tomorrow and put it up. The rest will be put up whn it is finsihed, sometime in the next coupl months, depending on how fast I write. Give me a few weeks to give myself a deadline. Please comment on this part since it is still being worked on, oh and take into account that this takes into account the changes I am doing in the rewritten updates of previous chapters.  
  
enjoy  
  
Joseph A.. Kohle jakohle@worldnet.att.net  
  
DISCLAIMER: Ranma Nibunnoichi is the property of Takahashi Rumiko, Shogakukan Inc, Shonen Sunday Comics, Fuji TV, Kitty Film, Studio Deen, Viz Video, and Viz Select Comics. It is used without their permission and is not intended for profit but only for the enjoyment of fans of the Ranma series. All characters within this fic that are not the property of the above mentioned are copyrighted to the author, Joseph Kohle, January 1997. This work of fiction is the result of the author's hard work and is for the enjoyment of others. Please do not change, modify, or use any segment of this story without the author's knowing and written consent. Feel free to archive this work.  
  
************************************************************************   
  
Meiyo Ai soshite Nikushimi  
  
A Ranma Nibunnoichi Fanfic  
by Joseph A. Kohle   
Chapter IV Separate Paths   
Part IX Facing Oblivion  
  
--1--  
  
The universe was darkness, again. Not terrible like a child's closet but comforting like the enclosed confessional. It enfolded him like a lover, and he caught himself slipping into fantasies best left for another time. It was the warmth of a bed in the morning, the soothing lull of Kasumi's voice, the blissful ignorance of the harsh light that lured the weary sailor like a tavern and the arms of a maid. All whispered to just let go and float for eternity as the world turned. Why fight when Mousse would tidy up, make sure the final danger he posed was wiped from the earth with but a single thrust, a consuming flame, and the depths of the ocean.  
In time, Akane would understand. The tears would dry and her heart would find another. So much better than the tortured, uncertain existence of her Sancho to his Quixote. Just allow Kasumi to sing and he would be content . . . parts of songs, simple and pure.   
He could almost hear it.   
"...anata no nega igoto ga..."   
A mother's voice, loving and gentle, confident and clear.  
"...kanau naraba..."  
Her face was covered in tears. She would cry and her heart would break. But if he stayed . . .  
"...tsubasa ga hoshii   
"kono senaka ni   
"tori noyo ni   
"shiroi tsubasa tsuketa..."   
In inaction did he betray them?  
"...hudasai kono o ozorani   
"tsubasa wo hiroge ton de   
"yukitai yo..."  
Could he forsake them?  
"...kana shimi   
"nonai jiyuu na   
"sora e tsubasa hatameka se   
"yukitai..."  
Or do you save them?  
He screamed as the darkness became a roiling geyser of mud. "Leave me alone! I'm not your toy!"  
  
Light, filtered through closed lids, pierced the darkness. Air, a young maiden's sweet kiss, suffused his lungs. Grass, wet with dew and dream soft, bent beneath his hands. The morning damp soaked his pants and chilled him like a swamp as the warm sun scorched his back like a desert. A burning dichotomy of emotions leaving only a scintillating tremor of utter release in his body. The caressing wind, the gentle melody of life that floated about him like stray wisps of hair. Scent. Sound. Texture. The feel of home. He did not even need to see it. It was the home that he held in his dreams and fantasies, the reality where he longed to be.  
His eyes wakened slowly to the green grass and the small stone path meandering before him. Blinking away the dark nightmare, the garden of the Tendou home filled his awareness. Unbelieving, he stumbled to his knees, trying to asure himself the scene was real.   
The tree, the pond, the rising peak of the dojo on his left; all of them deliciously satisfied his devouring gaze. He knelt before the open porch to the room in which his father played shogi and drank.   
The subtle whisper of his father's voice caressed the wind, declaring the last move of his friend to be illegal; the click of the wooden pieces. Was that Kasumi in the kitchen? Her sweet voice filling the air like the scent of wild flowers on the wind? Nabiki was on the phone, her voice crisp as a winter morn, snapping orders and making demands. And Akane? Her glorious shout burst from the dojo, brimming his weary and battered heart with joy and peace.  
Yet no movement. No sense of rightness.   
There was no one, only ghosts and shadows moving gently against the half-opened shoji. The small wind chime tittered like a practical joker.   
It was a hollow diarama.  
A fraud to relax and entertain him.  
Anger clenched within him, a muscle drawn for the killing blow. A practical joker was the truth, a sadistic master willing to torment him to the end of his days, until he screamed in insanity and begged his life to be unburdened from his shoulders as if he were Atlas bargaining with Hercules.   
"Do you think I'm that easy?" he whispered. "Is this the best you can come up with?" His fist closed tightly, and he watched the swirling blue and white ki coalesce around it. "An empty home! A shattered life! Promises as empty as everything else you've shown me! Is that it? Is that all you have, Boukyaku? Why don't you promise me something that I don't have? That I'll never have?"  
With a flicker of his mind, his hand wrapped around the glinting blade of a wakazashi, as sharp and biting as any words rolling from Nabiki's tongue. He had learned his lessons well the first time trapped within the idol. He knew the power he held when he chose to be there.  
"I can tempt you too! You want my life! Well, you can have it." He leveled the blade at his heart and lifted his eyes to the sky. It was dark and brooding. Red and black burnished in darkness, and here he sat within the hole of light and purity, his sanctuary and desire, mocking him as surely as Boukyaku's laughter. "If I die, you die." he gritted his teeth and prepared to end it. So simple and so right. Akane would understand. Xian Lin would.  
"Ranma?"   
The voice snapped his resolve and the strength in his arm and mind. The blade vanished as his hand fell and was cradled by the earth. The sound of a shoji sliding open captured his attention. He turned to the sound and nearly cried out in relief as he realized who had called.  
She was different. She was no longer the girl who stared back at him with slightly shocked eyes every time he looked in the mirror. A woman filled his eyes, an angel that took his breath away and constricted his chest like the sight of Akane's face in the pale morning light. The coppery curls had deepened to the red of the setting sun while her skin had become the light of the hunter's moon. Taller than he was as a girl, her body was thinner, the hips curving less, and the swell of her breasts more subtle rolling hills to the prominent mounds that would have been his had a different chromosome begotten him. Lithe like the cheetah, the strength of a cougar reflected in her deep, sea green eyes.   
She was dressed in a red chegasm with vines and white lilies climbing from the hem up across her hips and stomach to the encircling clasp about her neck. An oval cut in the bosom exposed her white skin and a hint of cleavage. On each wrist, two stylized ivory bracelets clattered as her arms swayed.   
She paused for a second in the open shoji, her lips slightly parted, and he drew in every detail of her face, mapping it and accepting it because it was right in his mind. This was the face he should have been staring at, the face he might have worn with comfort. This wasn't some magical adaptation of his body, it was the actual girl, but before he could finish his thoughts, the doubt vanished from her eyes and a cry leapt in a bell's peal from her lips. "Ranma!"  
She was in front of him an instant later, as if the world had shifted at her bidding. "I didn't think you'd come. I wouldn't have blamed you, you know." Her lips curved into a half-smile. Her eye were serious, however.   
Searching his face, she sought reassurance that he was real and not some figment of this prison's devising. He knew his expression was the same. Guarded, yet desiring to open up and let go.   
It was a relief to find her after only expecting her death. "If you could keep yourself out of trouble, I would've stayed away. But do you do that?" He knuckled her chin and smiled. "Play with the big boys and you'll get hurt."   
It was an old game, one that had kept their relationship from becoming something that might just hurt them. Playful and friendly like otters, but without the seriousness of insult and pain and love that was the standard carried by his tie to Akane. That was why the closeness distracted him. Her fingers hovered above his forearm, their heat penetrating the silk of his shirt. The scent of jasmine filled the air around him. So different from the sun-scented aroma of mango and honey that hung about Akane, but just as distracting and alluring.   
"I knew what I was doing. What does it matter to me? I change one prison for another, one sorrow for grief. The price is worth it to see you living in peace." Her fingers drifted toward his cheek, but then fell to lie lightly upon his chest.   
His heart was thundering in his breast from fear and something he couldn't quite grasp. To flee backwards was his initial reaction, but she held him enthralled like a snake does its prey. Shaking his head, he tried to push her away. "Do you think I'm free? You are part of me. Every time I close my eyes, I feel your pain. I feel your sorrow and your fear."  
"You shouldn't have come back," she snapped. "This place isn't for you. It's my fight, and this is my choice. If I want to die here, then I'll die here."  
"No!" he denied. He shoved her backwards, pushing her onto her rump as he scrambled to his feet. "I'm not letting anyone die for me. So don't even get any ideas. You might have tricked me the first time, but you're not going to do it this time. Can't you see that I'd rather die than have any of you get hurt?" He turned his eyes to the dark sky and screamed, "You're not getting any of them! Do you hear me!?"  
"Ranma."  
His rage faded as her voice brought him to look on her.  
She was propped on her elbows, her expression searching. The feather- light touch of her mind brushed his, but it was gone before he found what she had retrieved. Her eyes began to shine. She stood up and gazed intently at him. "You are right, but only in part," she added and smiled as she saw his satisfied smirk. "You are part of me. I am part of you."  
"I don't understand."  
Closing the distance between them, she cocked her head and slapped him with a scrutiny that said he should know the answer, but that she was going to give him the answer anyway. He just didn't understand women. "You said it yourself. Every time you sleep, I am there. I can feel you even when you're not here. How do you think I knew you were here? You went from being a reminder of what I was missing to filling my mind with your presence. Can't you feel the same? And don't lie to me!"  
"It's the idol. That is all it is. My body and soul are connected to it, nothing else."  
"Then gather your ki."  
"I don't see. . ."  
"Do it!"   
Her voice snapped, suffused with the authority that she had employed in their training. For a moment, he stumbled to gather his energy only to realize that he had done it automatically. Astonished and mesmerized, his eyes followed the blue energy, tinged with white like a cloudy azure quartz, as it rippled around his body, following the slightest contour. "I still don't see what this means," he mumbled in perplexity as he returned his attention to Xian Lin. He sucked in his breath in shock.  
Xian Lin stood before him, her aura cascading about her. The incandescent white of her aura melded to her body, but within it he saw whispers of blue. He was not a master like Toufu-sensei, but he could recognize his own aura and those of a few other people. There was no doubt that the blue was his.  
"How? This can't be possible." Holding out his hand, he compared the white to Xian Lin's aura. It was the same. Muted like a fine horn, but still the pure pattern of her aura. For a moment, he considered sinking to the soft ground, but he fought it. "I don't understand," he finally groaned in frustration.  
"Neither do I." Grasping his wrist, she lifted his hand and placed it on the bare skin above her heart. A jolt or heat rushed through his hand and into his body. Gasping, he tried to pull away, but she held him tightly until he relaxed and let things take their course. After he relaxed, she released his wrist and placed her own hand above his heart. At her touch, his vision blurred. He could feel her heart beating in time with his own, slowly speeding up.   
Ranma was in her village, practicing against her friend as her mother watched with pride. "Watch, Mother," she called out and leapt forward to attack. Her opponent retreated and then an older girl was there to defend her friend. She screamed in pain as the fist crushed her nose. Bright blood flowed, but then she was older, watching as the men with helmets and iron weapons made their way toward her village. Her mother was with the Matriarchs, talking to the men. None of them saw the subtle signal. She tried to shout a warning as she saw several men knock arrows, but by then it was too late. Her mother was falling. Blood was everywhere, and the screams of women filled her ears.   
With a start Ranma shook off the memories and turned to face Xian Lin. She was staring at him with a dazed expression, as if she were two places at once. She flinched once and muttered something about cats. Then he noticed the auras. They had switched. She now wore his blue and his own arm was encased in white, yet where his own hand touched her, the blue fled onto his hand and the white onto her body.   
It was like blood flowing through the body, natural and normal. Snail- paced, their auras equalized into a bluish white. He could see his and hers within in it, but they melded so perfectly that it was only the difference in colour that gave him a hint that they were separate. Or maybe they weren't supposed to be separate. But then the visions flooded his mind again, blocking out the idea.  
He was riding his father's shoulders as his mother watched in anguished silence as they departed on a short training trip. He was cradling his mother, weeping as the village burned around him. His father was training him, but speaking of tradition in Chinese. The man's face was fierce, determined despite the fact that two of his arrows protruded from the man's body and his leg was broken. He couldn't kill him. But he had no choice as the darkness closed over him and the cats began to yowl in hunger and fear. They were in the mountains steadily traveling towards Jusenkyo. In the distance, he thought he saw himself with a man in ancient armour, but why was his hair red? His father was training him. The man kissed him, his hands caressing his breasts, lifting the dress from his body, inch by inch. They were on poles, bounding at each other as the guide screamed at them in a language he could understood, but was forced to ignore. They placed the statue before his lover, and their eyes met. He rushed to attack his Clan Sisters. He kicked his father. The statue shattered. The panda rushed at him. The shadow killed his lover. Fear claimed him, and he was transfixed by the attacking panda. There was no way to beat the shadow, he gathered his energy. The kick connected. The world exploded in light. The water closed over his head.   
Nothing.  
He was looking at her breasts, and her voice was crying in his head, crying and pleading as he screamed because he was her.   
Ranma jerked his hand away. There was a wrenching, as if the world had shifted, and he suddenly felt empty as his aura shifted back to the original imperfect colour and pattern.  
"What was that?" he whispered in horror. He could still feel the pain, remember the anguish, the fear, the joy, but it was fading, losing its reality like a movie does once the lights return. Xian Lin's sob broke his bemused musings.  
"I didn't know. I didn't know that would happen," Xian Lin whispered. Her eyes were wide and filled with tears as she looked up at him. Ranma did not even recall her crumpling to the ground. One moment they had both been standing and then . . . He shook his head. He did not know. He was uncertain if he really even wanted to know what had happened.  
Kneeling, Ranma laid his hand against her shoulder. "It's not your fault. You didn't know that would happen."  
"I did," she argued. "Maybe not like that, but I thought it would bring us closer, make us understand each other. I didn't know. I had tried to forget all of that. I never meant for you to see it. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."   
"Xian Lin," he whispered. But he said no more as she turned her face upwards. His breath caught as her shimmering eyes held his. Pain. Her eyes screamed pain and torment. They screamed of a desire that she was denied century after century. A curse had been laid upon his mortal body, but here was a soul who would be tormented through all eternity, and mayhap beyond. "I didn't know. I never knew. How can you stand it? How can you look at me and not hate me for trapping and damning you twice? How come!?" "It's not your fault," Xian Lin whispered. "I made my choice. I made it fifteen hundred years ago, and I made it again a month ago. I knew what would happen at the beginning, and I knew what would happen this time. Boukyaku is destined to have me."  
"Then why?" Ranma asked in an anguished voice. "Why do it?" But he knew the answer.  
"I loved him. You saw that. You felt that, and you know what I did for that love." She was crying now. The first time she had ever cried since her death. She didn't sob, but the tears fell to crash against Ranma's hand and the earth of the Tendou garden. "I love you too."   
Unhinged by Xian Lin's tears and then her declaration, Ranma was a statue when she reached up and kissed him, her lips pressing softly against his like silk drawn across the sensitive skin of the neck. The world disappeared in a blur of images. Many familiar, but just as many of people and places he had never seen. They came and went like a flashing strobe light, incoherent and leaving him fumbling for reality. Then they receded and disappeared leaving him surrounded by warmth, a sweet taste upon his lips.  
The taste was indescribable. Lingering and pure, it held all the innocence and joy of a child yet the burning passion of a genius. Tantalizing and fresh like Akane's lips, yet subtly different in the overall experience.   
Different?   
His eyes snapped open to find the world blurred by burnished red hair and a face he knew well. A face that wasn't Akane.  
Their lips still touched, her breath mingling with his, but the moment was over and it was not long before the reality of the transgression clarified for Xian Lin like rocks in the mist, but it was already too late to stop.  
"I am sorry. I didn't mean to. It just felt right, I'm so sorry." her face was red as she stumbled over the words. Shamefaced, she began to back away. "I'll understand if you hate me."  
"No!" Ranma started forward. "I don't hate you, Xian Lin. It's just that. . ."  
"I know," Xian Lin whispered brokenly, her eyes burning with pain that washed over Ranma like a searing vent of gas, "but I can't help it! I-I . . . it's not fair!" Her face twisted into a grimace of agony, and Ranma stumbled backwards as her tortured emotions slammed into his mind. Before Ranma could react she was up and scrambling toward the house. Her passage sent the chimes clanking wildly and left Ranma with a stunned expression on his face and a heavy weight upon his heart.   
The sky continued to darken and Ranma's hopes began to dim in the face of this new problem. Xian Lin loved him. Their auras were being mixed and matched as if he were some child's dress-up doll. Boukyaku. Cologne. Mousse. Akane. And now, Xian Lin. Everything was wrong. Everything he touched was doomed for failure.   
He wanted to scream. He wanted to run after Xian Lin. The sky pulsed, bringing his attention to the malevolent interest of Boukyaku and the power that resided behind him. Boukyaku's glee at the recent events was almost palatable. Two separate, uncoordinated enemies. Ranma knew the problem with such a stance. Hell, he thought, Kasumi could have figured it out. He had very little time. He had to find Xian Lin, and they had to resolve this. Now.   
Ranma ran into the house searching for Xian Lin; however, the moment his foot touched the smooth wood of the sitting area, the world shifted and yanked at him, twisting his body and mind as his reality dissolved. He landed flat on his stomach, his face pressed into burning red earth. Noise crashed around him as if he were trapped within a drum, beating him to the ground as the heat slowly tore through his body and ignited the marrow of his bones. And through the pain, the blurring vision, he heard Xian Lin's screams.  
  
--2--  
  
Mu Tsu dropped another log into the fire, sending sparks into the night air like a hundred short-lived fireflies. Leaning back against the small stack of wood, he watched the silent form of Ranma. She was sitting in the same lotus position. Her damp clothes were nearly dry. Though he had no clue where the moon was, Mu Tsu was sure that it was nearing the horizon. The sun would be up in an hour or more, and the moon would set a few hours after that.   
Reaching down, Mu Tsu retrieved the tanto from the ground. It was a superb weapon, finely balanced and honed to a hair-thin blade. In the firelight he could see it clearly. The blade was clean and polished, shining. Someone must have taken the time to clean it after its last use. Mu Tsu idly wondered if Ranma had. It made sense, but at the same time, the notion of Ranma cleaning up his own blood was a difficult one to imagine.  
It was not hard to remember the times when he had wanted to see Ranma's blood spilt across the ground like some child's tipped-over glass of cherry punch. Four months ago, he had attacked Ranma at night. Only a misstep on his part had allowed Ranma to notice the sharpened kamma he had thrown in desperation. Only luck had saved his rival, but it always seemed that way.   
Despite his curses, despite his problems, Mu Tsu considered Ranma one of the luckiest men on earth. Mu Tsu doubted Ranma would have survived his life in Nerima, or maybe even up to it, without a great deal of luck. Ranma had skill. Ranma had the intelligence and instincts of a great fighter, but even those could not have protected him against everything he had faced. The Orochi. Pantyhose Tarou. Kirin. Toma. And dozens of others that Mu Tsu had heard about and probably more that he could barely imagine. Mu Tsu had once laughed at his rival's plight, enjoying the straights in which Ranma always found himself floundering.  
But now? He was not so sure anymore.  
Where was the smile that had been the mark of Ranma's easy-going nature? Where was the boyish charm and good-natured competition?   
He glanced at the tanto in his hands. Was that what growing up meant? Everything became serious, and the world no longer was filled with wonder but terror?   
Yes, he had wanted to kill Ranma, dreamed of it. But to have the blade in his hand, to be readying himself for a single killing stroke, to fulfill Ranma's last requests, was not the future he hungered after. With one single stroke, he would close a part of his life that he would miss. He would complete a chapter in dozens of people's lives, and maybe kill more than one, physically and emotionally.   
It terrified him.   
They all lived in his shadow. Old and young alike. Over the course of the weeks, Mu Tsu began to see the real Ranma and came to know the man behind the mask. Strong, quick, and desiring nothing more than obscurity. Ranma wanted nothing to do with any of them, at least that was how Mu Tsu saw it. But Ranma's karma always seemed to draw others to him and him to danger like mosquitoes to blood. And so they were all feeding off of him. But was Ranma supposed to be part of his life? Was Ranma's presence in his life foreordained? Ranma was because of Shampoo. And now to break free of Ranma, he had to let himself be swallowed in the footprints of his passage.   
Although he knew Ranma had the best intentions, the best goal at heart, it was still his purpose, and Mu Tsu was simply an extension of it. Mu Tsu was nothing more than a pawn in this game between Kuh Lon and Ranma. And everyone knew what part pawns played. Yet, if a pawn reached the other side alive anything could happen. But to do that Mu Tsu needed to be away from Ranma, away from the bulls eye.   
Because, when Ranma woke, his battle done, Mu Tsu would fall beneath his shadow once more, and that was not his wish.  
  
--3--   
  
The house blurred around her as she bolted from the enclosing backyard and through to the front door. Bursting from the entryway, she rushed toward the gate and collapsed against it, her head resting on the cool stone.  
How could she be so stupid?  
The confusion in his mind she had expected, but the self-loathing and fear she had not been prepared to face.   
Yet could she expect anything more from him? His love for Akane was stronger than even his desire to be the best martial artist. In small ways, she had stepped in and pushed the relationship along by working on Ranma from the inside. It gave her a purpose. It gave him happiness. But it brought her to his real heart.  
Maybe it had been a mistake to take an active role in his life, but when the other choice was to be absorbed and perhaps annihilated by Ranma's invincible inner strength, she was really given no choice. Become a part of Ranma's life or die, so she fought him from the initial joining of their souls.  
Fighting him, she had been locked perpetually with Ranma. She had shared his life, past and present. She had delved into his memories and found things even he could not recall. She had seen his birth, listened to his mother's heartbeat within the womb. She had suffered eternally through the darkness and the screams of the cats. Friendship, agony, depression, love. Everything was as much a part of her as it was of him.   
She loved him. She could not help loving him, but to give him peace, she had helped him gain the strength to take the first step with Akane. It was all she could have done under the circumstance. She never realized that she would be given the chance to meet him, talk with him, learn to see him as a person.  
The irony of it was not lost on her.  
It was simply another aspect of her curse. Eternal punishment for her crimes against the Amazons. Because of Boukyaku, because she had loved someone she could never have.   
Maybe this was not the same, but if it could be any closer in similarity, she did not know how it was possible.  
"I love him," she whispered into the cool stone. "I'd give anything for you, Ranma. Even my life, my eternal life."  
With tears as war paint, she lifted her face to the sky. The sky, before a deep blue filled with clouds and birds, was now a burning inferno of flame and darkness. In past victims of her curse, she had feared that sight as she lay dormant within them. Now her heart was filled with an exuberant spirit.  
Fear burned away into a rictus of hate that consumed her heart as she stood up and gazed into oblivion.  
"You have desired me for fifteen hundred years, Boukyaku. You stole my love from me, but I kept him from you. You won't kill this one. You won't curse me again."  
Why, she wondered, why had the other girls never seen past their own desires to Ranma's? She loved him as much as they did, if not more, but they refused to give him his freedom. She would. She had transcended death, and now it was time to move on. She would give him her love by making him happy.  
"Let us dance, Demon!" she challenged.  
The sky darkened in response, and Xian Lin twisted the world she had created and stepped beyond.  
Hot air seared her lungs and face as she materialized beyond the protection of her own prison and into Boukyaku's. Wilting under the malevolent fire that raged around her, she crumpled to her knees. Gathering her ki, she pushed back the heat and stood on her own two feet.  
The blasted red landscape shattered around her and blackness surrounded her. For a moment it was calm. She was alone and the Universe was empty, but then a swirling cloud of the deepest black began to form, sucking the darkness into it. Only two bright red orbs shone in anxious glee within the darkness.  
'Let us dance, woman,' Boukyaku's sibilant whisper wrapped around her, but she charged before he closed his mind on her.  
She lashed out with a blast of pure white ki, slicing through the dark void like a comet in the night sky. It arced into Boukyaku and was swallowed as a flame crushed between two fingers.  
Shocked, she was immobile as a black hand surrounded her and engulfed her body. Panic ripped through her mind as she screamed in pain. Thousands of midnight tendrils of energy violated her soul, tearing at her mind. And then, there was only a blessed silence in the eternal darkness.  
  
--4--  
  
Although it was nearly three in the morning, people bustled about Shan Pu as she wandered through the Tokyo International Airport. Voices filled the air and competed with the loud speakers chattering so quickly in Japanese that Shan Pu had trouble following some of what was being said, until it was repeated in Mandarin.  
A medium-sized knapsack, thrown over her shoulder, bounced against her lower back as she wove through the small crowds of people. Her other duffle was doing its best to entangle her legs, but Shan Pu kept a step ahead of it, gliding through the crowd like an ice dancer.  
Many Japanese business men, tired from long flights or bored with their work, turned to watch Shan Pu's lithe form blaze past them like a shooting star, there one moment and gone the next.  
Shan Pu noticed her admirers on a subliminal level, but her mind was preoccupied. Lately, her mind often had retreated to this state, which surprised her. She was not given to deep thoughts or meditative trances. When the need arose, she could struggle through a problem and even surpass in some instances, but she never had been, nor would she ever gain a great deal of intelligence. She was smart, it was just that certain things did not entice her. It was easier just to follow her emotions and let others plot and plan for her. Of course she had taken some things into hand with Ranma, but they were never too complex. Her great-grandmother was the wise seer.  
And it had worked. Her goal lay within her reach, but a few steps away. She only had to jump, grab the outstretched branch and hang there comfortably for the rest of eternity as the world passed beneath her feet.   
But the chasm that waited below her feet terrified her. What if she missed? What if the branch was not meant to hold her? What if. . . .  
Something, like a worm, was gnawing at her stomach. It was as if she had misplaced her favourite childhood doll again. Losing her mother's doll shortly after her mother's death had sent Shan Pu into a frenzy of worry and searching for the creature. After many days, she found it in her mother's old room, wrapped in a worn, down comforter. Finding the doll sent a sob shuddering through her small body like a small earthquake, leaving her weak at the knees yet relieved.  
The worm in her stomach felt the same. A building tension of doubt and terror that she could not understand. Maybe it was simply that she was about to embark on the final step of her months long quest to gain Ranma. Ranma had escaped before, it could happen again. She was just worried about that, she told herself and smiled at a cute Japanese man who was watching her unabashedly. He blushed and quickly buried his face in his newspaper.  
Of course the guy was not Shan Pu's ideal, but it was almost arousing to flirt with the self-conscious Japanese men. Their mystified, often flustered, and embarrassed reactions made the entire enterprise of flirting almost a kind of combat for Shan Pu. If they looked away she won, and they always eventually looked away.  
Except Ranma. He pushed her away, he avoided her, but he never seemed to lose when they flirted. Shan Pu always did. Ranma had an upper hand, but that wasn't right. Men were to be dominated. She was the mistress. He was her husband. That was the Amazon way.  
Shan Pu shook her head, sending her purple mane flowing in the stagnant air. Turning she entered the lounge that abutted her gate. Finding a seat she curled up in to it, and stared out the window at the lights of Tokyo and smiled, remembering the happy times there as she forgot about the future for a few minutes and simply relaxed until her seating assignment was called and she was forced to board the plane.  
  
--5--  
  
The Realm of Boukyaku bore down on every part of his body as if he was attempting to shoulder the heavens by himself. Every joint in his body screamed in red hot agony. The unexpected onslaught of torture shattered his concentration, allowing a tiny tendril of consciousness to slip inside his mind.   
For a moment there was nothing, only the vague impression one gets on a dark night that something is not right. Ranma tried to search for the answer as he attempted to regain control of the surrounding world. Something had happened. Something was wrong . . . Something . . .  
His mind focused back on the world, pushing away the weight, trying to seal his astral body away from Boukyaku. As his world congealed, the weight lifting from his shoulders. He noticed the thin tendril of darkness, which snaked to him and through him like an umbilical cord. It fought against his efforts, forcing him to expend more of his concentration and strength, like a swimmer fighting a strong current. But it was so tiring, dragging him downward into sluggish oblivion.  
The world shifted. It was no longer dark, but bright warm. A breeze caressed his skin through his open shirt. The sun above bathed him in heat, relaxing his muscles and mind as he slipped to the grass. It was soft as down, and melted out of his way. It was like sleeping on air.  
But he was on grass. His mind told him there was something wrong. Grass was slightly abrasive. Why didn't he feel it? Fumbling, his hand crossed his body and touched his other arm. His arm was there, but he couldn't feel the ground only the touch of his hand. Groggily he tried to raise himself, but slipped. Grabbing for a purchase, his nails gouged into his arm sending a jolt of white hot sensations racing through his body to his mind.  
For a moment his mind cleared. He was sitting on the red earth of the prison, his fingers digging into his arm. But the pain did not last, and soon the peaceful meadow was slipping back into reality, fading the stark burning world into nothing.  
"No," he whispered.  
The birds were singing.  
"It's not right."  
Was that Akane's laugh?  
"She's . . . Nerima."  
And Xian Lin was glowing in health and happiness as she moved through the knee high grass.  
"She's . . ." Her scream echoed in his mind as her face contorted for a brief moment.  
"Its not real!" he screamed, his fingers clamping onto his forearm again, sending the mind clearing agony through his body.  
The world shimmered, losing its reality as the pain assaulted him. This wasn't real. It was another vision, he whispered over and over. As his nails gouged his skin, the pain became a focus. This was real, he told himself. Digging his nails in deeper, he relished the pain. It burned through his arm and up into his shoulder. His fingers were taunt, the tendons straining and resisting the forced pressure. Every joint compacted as he bore down, his nails sliding along the skin, tearing small tracks, leaving behind rivulets of blood. Deep down he knew this was not physical pain, but the force of his will acting against his spiritual form, but it felt real. It was real. And it meant he was in control.   
"Ranma! Stop, please stop," Akane's tearful voice flooded his mind, her tear filled face wavering before him. "It was a mistake. You didn't hurt me. You promised, Ranma. You promised not to do this. Please put down the knife."   
Confused, he felt a slicing pain in his arm. Wide-eyed, he looked at his forearm. A tanto was in his hand, covered in blood as it cut through muscle. He could feel the steel grating on bone, as the blood spilled out around him and onto the ground.  
Fumbling, his hand let go of the tanto. It slid from his hands and disappeared, the wound slowly healing before his eyes. Flesh knitted to flesh, muscle regenerating like he was watching a time-elapse film.   
"What?" he whispered  
"Sleep, Ranma," Akane whispered. "It will be over soon. Safe from everyone. Sleep. Make me happy." Her voice caressed him sibilantly, closing his eyes. Her face twisted, distorted, turning into darkness. Her eyes, her beautiful eyes glowing, shimmering like coals.  
"NO!"  
The world snapped into focus. He pushed his mind closed, closing it, fighting against something someone.   
"No," a dark voice screamed.  
"I am not your toy!" His mind closed like a trap. There was a thunderous explosion within his mind, and a dark mass was thrown back from him to disappear into the fiery world.  
For a moment, Ranma rested, his breathing labored. He had pushed his energy to the limit. He was exhausted as if he had fought for hours against Ryouga, but he knew that Boukyaku had also been pushed to the edge of his own skills. Ranma did not know how he knew that. Maintaining his defenses was easier now, attributing to Boukyaku's waning strength. His mind was free and unclouded. It was as if Boukyaku was occupied with something else.  
"Or someone," Ranma growled, hatred boiling just beneath the surface of his voice. Xian Lin's screams echoed torturously in his memory. He remembered the pain and the sudden loss. Now he could not feel her. No, that was not true. If he concentrated, subsuming all around him into his senses, a familiar tingle dwelled beneath it all, muted and distant.   
Sickeningly, the tingle flickered, slipping from his senses like a corrupted audio tape. The pauses of silence became longer and longer, and then they abruptly vanished into nothing. "Boukyaku," he whispered darkly, "now it ends."   
Climbing to his feet, he surveyed the inferno he was within. Around him the world was consumed by dark flames, but he was safe within his small bubble of control. He was safe for the moment. But where could Xian Lin be?  
The dark mountain that had dominated the world before still stood distantly on the horizon. It was the only marker in this world, and Ranma knew Boukyaku would be near it. He could not explain from what the certainty existed, but the mountain was his answer. Boukyaku was there. And if he was there, then Xian Lin was as well.  
It was a slim hope. Yet he had won from even slimmer margins.  
He could only journey to the mountain, hoping that Xian Lin was there, hoping that she still lived.  
Taking a single step and then another, he strode across the blasted earth, his soul probing forward, searching for that brief moment of contact, that spark he knew to be Xian Lin.  
For what seemed hours, he trudged hopelessly through the ruined red landscape. Distance, time, space, they had no meaning under the inferno of the sky above and the featureless desert he walked upon. With each step his soul wearied, his reserves of energy dribbled out onto the ground to be absorbed in the red desert like water from a leaking canteen.  
The mountain was no closer. In truth it seemed to take two steps back for every he took forward.   
Unwilling to admit defeat, he trudged on relentlessly. He would not lose, but as each step pulled more from his reserves of ki, he realized he was not going to make. Somehow, he was being drained by the idol.  
When he had been trapped, Ranma had felt a similar thing, but then it had been simple weariness. He had only needed to cleanse his ki through meditation. The syphoning he endured now was more akin to Hinako-sensei's Happi-go-yen.  
Ranma's steps slowed and then halted as the thought took form. Could it be possible that the idol or Boukyaku was forcing him to use his ki to remain within this damnable prison? Or was it something different? He had not felt the drain when Xian Lin had been near him, but now, especially after the brief scuffle with Boukyaku, he was losing energy.   
It wasn't a conscious effort to maintain the world on his part. Could it be forced?  
He frowned. Where had that thought come from? How could he be sustaining a world that he was visiting? Or was it more that he needed to sustain his form?   
"I am more vulnerable here," Xian Lin had said, as she sank to the ground. "You are here as a whole being. I am only here of my own volition. I am residing within the statue and within your body. It requires more energy from me."   
"And that means exactly what?" Ranma asked. As they had trained, Ranma had grown worried as Xian Lin seemed to wilt under the duress. He had kept the observation to himself since she would taken the comment as an insult, but it did not stop his speculation on why she used up her resources so much faster than him. Finally, much to Ranma's relief, Xian Lin had called the halt, her face haggard and movements lethargic.   
"That I need to rest," she murmured as she slipped to the ground, automatically assuming a lotus position. "I'll show you how later, but you don't need this right now, and I am too tired to teach. Just watch over me."  
"'Kay," Ranma answered, but her eyes were already closed. In moments, her form became still and distant.  
Shaking his head, Ranma settled himself on the hot earth. Xian Lin had showed him how. If it was the same problem, then meditation should fix it, but what was the problem exactly? He wished he knew, but at least he was certain there was a way to fix it.  
His head fell to his chest. Closing his eyes, he calmed his mind until there was nothing but his wa. For a moment he floated, absorbing the tranquility.   
He noticed the difference instantly. Where before his wa had surrounded him and consumed him, this time, it became a passage, leading away from the prison.  
Like an ambush, the path swept him forward relentlessly, drawing him toward a destination. Fear crashed through his heart as the world upended and then he was falling.  
Frantically, he lashed out, hoping to clutch something. For a moment a part of him detached and swam upwards, but then it was gone.  
Despairing, he plummeted downwards, briefly wondering how Boukyaku had ensnared him this time. Beneath him the glowing pathway was supernovaing in intensity. Was this death? The question flitted through his conscious. If it was, it wasn't so bad, he decided, as the warmth of the light filled him.  
As his mind drifted free, and he began to grow lethargic, he felt his descent slow and halt.  
The environment around him was a foggy light. Bobbing gently in the bathing light, he sought out an answer. Searching his new prison yielded little of value, so he turned inward and found the solution. The small part he had sent away from himself was still connected to his astral form. He could feel the thin tether of ki disappearing into the haze above, and anchoring him to the idol's own magic.  
But where was he then? And where was he falling?  
Though he had little ki to spare, Ranma cautiously extended a small tendril opposite his tether. Obviously his destination was there. Innately he knew that Boukyaku was not waiting for him, but whether it was death or something else, he did not know. Curiosity tugged at him with the insistence of a two year old.  
Waiting as the tendril spun downward, he cautiously turned his attention back to the idol. Confused for a moment, he gently pressed his consciousness against the tether. For a moment nothing happened, and then, as if through a frosted lens, the world of the idol hazed over his senses.  
There was something different about the idol. It was hard to discern through the haze, but it appeared as if a pattern was overlaying the blasted hell-like plateaus and the corroded basalt mountains and cliffs. Dark lines that crisscrossed the world as an intricate web.  
As Ranma tried to focus, the white haze shifted and darkened. The other tendril touched its destination and another window opened before him. Unlike the other, this one was not sight, but familiarity, a sense of rightness. A beating heart, a gentle rhythm of breathing.   
His physical body, he realized.  
Instinctively, Ranma reached out and wrapped the presence of his body around him. It filled him, the ambrosia of the untapped reserves of ki in his mortal husk sluicing through him as if he were the floodgate in a dam.  
In rapture, he allowed the ki to infuse him and replace that which he had lost within the statue's confines. Dimly, he began to perceive the world around his body. The fire crackled with intense heat, baking his face and arms. The cool autumn wind brushed through his hair as the crickets chirped their nightly songs. Even Mu Tsu's presence was noticeable, the worried sweat dripping from his brow.   
Ranma knew he was but a step away from returning to his human life, but the tether to the idol still held. A slim line of faith that was Xian Lin's hope. And now, with the influx of his body's own power, the frost melted away leaving the secrets of the idol bared to his naked soul.  
Ropey sinews of sludge knotted the idol. The physical manifestation of the world disappeared beneath the heavy webs of spiritual decay. Like ripping away the skin of a dead frog, the veins of power and control pulsed in into Ranma's senses, revealed for what they were.  
The unexpected, complex weave confused Ranma. Though it sprawled endlessly, the pattern was chaotic. It reminded him of the time he had accidentally destroyed part of the dojo's electrical system. From a distance, he had watched the electrician pull out the charred wires and then begin to thread new wires through the circuit box. To Ranma, the twisting tangle of wires and connections, the several varieties of colour, and the random connection to the circuits made less sense than his calculus assignments. But the electrician seemed to know what he was doing. It was a simple matter of training.  
So why couldn't he grasp the concept now?  
He was a martial artist. This was his area.   
Undaunted, he shifted closer to the idol's domain, ascending on the tether. The world of the idol jumped into clarity, the tiny details revealing themselves as he approached. The heavy cables were immobile, looping and twisting about each other like boneless lovers. Some disappeared into the earth, others branched toward the sky, meshing with the dark veil of knot work above his head. It was oppressive. Even from the outside, Ranma could feel the weight closing about the plane inside the idol. Like a trap, enclosing and holding the world together. It brought images of a willow tree to Ranma's mind. The mass of roots holding tightly the bank, so that the rushing, river water could not erode the nutrient rich soil.   
Ranma frowned. It was not that easy. There was an illusive undercurrent running beside the spreading roots of Boukyaku. Although immobile, they seemed to struggle, fighting something that Ranma could not discern from his position.  
Ranma slowed and halted as he came to within reaching distance of the thin curtain that separated him from the world of the idol. His tentative hand bridged the gap and brushed the membranous barrier. His danger sense flared. Shifting backwards into a defensive posture, a globe of ki formed in each of his hands, their glow contained only slightly as he watched and searched.  
Nothing.  
Peace had settled across his senses once more, his mortal husk safe in the real word, his soul isolated from the idol.  
Warily, he released the ki, and stepped once more to the veil, and placed his hands on it and pushed.   
There was fear. There was the sense of danger. But nothing came as he prepared his body for an attack.  
It had to be nerves, or maybe the call of his body, he finally decided.  
Pushing harder the membrane bulged outward, resisting his efforts, forcing him back, trying to hold him within. Unwilling to admit defeat and desert Xian Lin, he struggled, his hands pressing against the veil, distending it like a plastic bag.  
Screaming like an air raid siren, his instinct warned him off, but he relentlessly continued, letting the curtain wrap about him, enclose behind him and drag him forward as the veil between the worlds tore and birthed him into the idol.  
At one moment, it was as if he were pushing through packed earth, and then he was falling, his spirit desperately trying to adjust itself to the new world. About him the dark trunks of Boukyaku's body blurred past him, some seeming to snap at him as he tumbled toward the sleeping nest of asps.   
Twisting and grabbing onto the empty spaces between Boukyaku's control, Ranma solidified the air, slowing himself and guiding his feet to a safe purchase between two pulsing conduits of dark sewage.  
Gathering himself, Ranma stood still for but a moment to gain his awareness. Above him, a disk of blue rotated like a galaxy in the air, a rope of his own ki breaching the barrier between himself and his body.  
For a brief moment it waited and then slid downward, unerringly following his descent until it lay like a shadow at his back.  
Satisfied his exit was within reach, the world garnered Ranma's attention. The unending and almost incomplete whorls of the living world reminded Ranma of an anime he had seen once. A large crystalized forest with strange flora wavered in his mind, trying to impose itself over the uninhibited damnation before him. Yet, this did not look enchanting like that forest had, and he certainly did not see any giant insects, although Boukyaku could create those at any moment if he so desired. But then, if he now saw the world as it was, simply a layout of puppet strings, what would Boukyaku's illusions look like?  
Delicately picking his path, Ranma began to move along the colorless ground, stepping around the trunks and roots. It was almost impossible. Though space existed, there was no straight path. He was forced to leap over thick knots and twisting labyrinthine walls to make any forward progress, and even then he felt as if he was being led in circles.  
At every turn, the black vines seemed to gravitate toward him, slowly collapsing against his position. Dodging beneath one archway and then over a tangle on the floor, Ranma suddenly found himself confronted with a solid wall of black. Mousetrap quick, he launched backwards, but his foot brushed against the black for a moment.  
There was no pain, just numbness as his ki bled away into the black, sending the darkness rippling in pleasure, before a shimmer of light folded over the twisting black skin and freezing it once more into a murky waterfall of ice.  
Halting his backward movement, Ranma wearily sunk to the ground. His reserves were already being replenished from his physical body, but the brief contact had drained him greatly.  
The encounter explained why he had been slowly losing his power as he traveled through the idol without the clarification offered by his anchor to the real world. Obviously, his ki had an affect on Boukyaku in the idol. It sustained him, or gave him more mobility. Ranma thought it was the latter. The solid wall had leapt alive as soon as it had stolen his power. But then what was the shimmering around the black? And why could he not see it any more?  
Ranma shook his head. He did not have time to discern the answer. In truth, he had very little time. Dawn soon would be upon him, and he needed to finish before the moon set a few hours later.  
Traveling on the ground was obviously not working, he decided quickly. With a sinking feeling, he surveyed the dense wall in front of him, and the now closed passage behind him. Hurriedly, he glanced around, and found a few openings, high above his head, where it thinned into strands rather than full nets. Closer to him, a small depression in the dark wall grudgingly allowed a sliver of light through, probably enough for his body to just squeeze through.  
It was far above him, but he was an astral being at the moment. Had not Xian Lin informed him of the lack of limitations on an astral form. He just hoped she was right about it.  
Ranma gritted his teeth, gathered his strength and leapt for the opening.  
It hung perhaps a hundred feet above him, but his leap carried him much farther, arcing him up over the waterfall, and then into the maze of branches between earth and sky. Realizing his mistake, Ranma desperately lashed out, seeking a safe purchase for his ki. Rushing toward the ceiling, he prodded between the deadly black icicles.  
Dimly he remembered the shimmering around the waterfall, and tried to brush beside a bridge as he shot past. Not quite touching the hungry structure, he felt his ki catch against something and then there was a shimmering surrounding his ki, trying to immobilize it.   
Fighting desperately, Ranma kept his energy flowing past the shimmering, but used it like a foothold, and pushed against it. The strange energy tried to hold him down, but he was fast. A burst of power, and he was nudged in a different direction.  
Ranma smiled. The actually dynamics of what he had attempted were unimportant. He had done it, and he could do it again.  
A single thought sent several tethers out to touch against four different black structures, just barely touching the shimmering film. Three of them hit, but a small miscalculation caused him to brush against Boukyaku's form with the last. Weakness spread like a virus through his astral body, but he now knew how to fight it. Quickly breaking contact, he opened his mind to his body and replenished his lost reserves. At the same time, he layered his ki around Boukyaku's power so he was pressing against only the multi-hued surface.  
A moment later he solidified his astral body and all four anchors. He stopped instantly, as if he had never even been moving. The four fingers of his ki dissipated and then coalesced around his body. Absorbing the energy, Ranma allowed his human form to return as he floated in the air, considering his next move.  
He was safe from danger for the moment. Surveying the world around him, however, his sense of security plummeted. What he was supposed to do from this position?  
This was not the same world as before. Before, the distant mountain had called him to it, giving him a goal. But this? Despair rose in his heart as Ranma gazed at the confusing maze about him.  
It might be easier to only see the mountain and the blasted earth and scorched sky.  
No, that would lead to his death. About him lay the true danger of Boukyaku's prison. If he saw only the illusion, Boukyaku would leech his ki away. Ranma needed to see it this way, but he needed the world as well.  
So why couldn't he?  
Obviously the complex weave gave thee world its form. Ranma smiled in delight. He just needed to find the pattern and then he could see both, be able to read it.   
No. That did not sound right. More importantly it felt horribly wrong.   
"You're wasting time, moron," he muttered under his breath. "Xian Lin needs you."  
With a stray thought, Ranma extended a small finger of ki past one of the branches behind him and shoved off the translucent film about it. Gently moving forward, he continued with small fingers of his ki, keeping him away from the vertical stalks of Boukyaku's power.   
They were less dense at this height, so he did not need to pay as much attention to what he was doing.  
Instead, part of his mind probed outward, questing for a small light that might be Xian Lin. The rest of his conscious watched the world around him. He was fascinated at how easy it was to manipulate and control his ki. In truth, he could create patterns with his ki, pushing off from several things at once to push him into complex maneuvers.  
He somersaulted between two tangled vines, and then launched himself upward, bracing himself against a massive trunk hanging ponderously above him. For a moment he watched his ki branch out across the rippling surface around the dark power. It steadied for a moment, almost melding with the ethereal power, before retreating back towards his arm.  
He glanced down briefly and almost screamed in horror. His arm was not there. Instead a swirling blue and white amorphous form bulged from his shoulder. Every part of his body from which a piece of his ki had extended was now a mass of energy.   
Startled, he shot out several tethers and brought himself to a halt. As his ki retreated from the world to his body, the amorphous parts began to solidify. In moments, what had been a mass of chaos was his right arm.   
Perplexed, Ranma pushed a part of ki outwards from his hand. He watched in wonder as his skin became clear and one of his fingers stretched outward, losing any semblance of humanity until only a long wisp of bluish-white stretched from his rapidly deteriorating hand and arm. There was no pain, and he could still feel his arm and hand, but they just were not the same.   
Suddenly, he began to laugh as his mind connected everything. He remembered the time Xian Lin had allowed herself to shift into a true spirit form.   
In front of his eyes, she had melted into a ball of pure white energy. Then she had begun to move about, small pieces of her body pressing against the world, moving her along like hundreds of tiny legs. Approaching him, she had wrapped herself about his body, sending thousands of tendrils across him and through him, rooting herself to his body for a moment, until there minds were so fully linked that he could hear every thought she created.  
Rooting? Where had that word come from?  
Ranma did not know, but it made sense. And was that not what this was about him? It looked like a forest, but could it not just be roots of Boukyaku's spiritual form, trying to latch onto the idol and control it?  
The possibilities were staggering. If all the dark conduits about him were just the way Boukyaku controlled the world and spread his influence across it instead of his actual form, then a central body existed somewhere. A concentration of power and awareness that he could find. Like the melding Xian Lin had done to him, a mind existed somewhere within the idol.   
And when he found that, he would find Xian Lin.   
Giddy with his discovery, Ranma reached out with his awareness. He examined the world around him, looking for a pattern that would lead back to Boukyaku.  
There.  
He saw it among the many knots above him. There were larger spikes that seemed to all be radiating from the same place. He could not see it yet, but they disappeared into the distant horizon. Boukyaku was there. He was sure of it.  
Grinning, he pushed against the world and shot himself forward at a tremendous speed. His body shimmered into a bright blue-white ball as he sped through the dark network Boukyaku was using to control the idol. Ahead the darkness began to deepen, and a giant pillar appeared in his mind's eye. Boukyaku waited there, and Xian Lin with him.  
Ranma sped onwards, his mind beginning to form a battle plan.  
  
--6--  
  
It was an hour before dawn as the China Airline's 747 rolled to a halt among a row of docked aircraft oat the concourse. Below, luggage handlers and others were popping the lower cargo holds and beginning to unload the baggage. A fuel truck was already moving into place as the gangway slid against the smooth skin of the plane and mated with it.  
Shan Pu felt and heard all of this as she fidgeted in her seat, waiting for the embarking to begin. Although this was much better than being shipped in a box, Shan Pu did not like it. There was something wholly unnatural about packing onself into a machine that looked like a giant pickle with wings. For all she knew, they could be trying to pickle people in the confines of the ghastly device.   
That and the people.  
She disliked the tight confines and the dozens of people complaining and talking incessantly as they milled about looking for their seats, or taking care of their children. It was so undisciplined. Any battle march that included such disarray resulted in lost respect for the Amazon warriors and the Battle Chief. And then to watch all of these people meekly sit and await whatever fate the pilots decreed for them? How could people trust them? Most of them were men, and soft foreign men at that.  
With no other choice, Shan Pu endured the wait. Once, she had tried to force her way out of a crowded train. Although most Japanese appeared docile, she had received several bruises and more than several unwanted and indecent contacts before she could make her way outside the train and into the angry presence of the police waiting on the platform. Luckily only her pride had been hurt in that encounter. A stern warning and a long lecture was the price she paid for her impatience, and she would not allow that to happen ever again.  
Her warrior pride would never allow it. Especially at this time and place. It would be a great affront to her great-grandmother if Hyu Chin should find any reason to be displeased with Shan Pu's self-introduction.  
For several long minutes, Shan Pu stared out the small window as the plane disgorged its passengers. Finally, when there were only a dozen or so people on board, Shan Pu stood, gathered her bags from the overhead and swept gracefully down the aisle and out into the gangway.   
She ignored the oily taste of the air and the stench of burning fuel and rotting garbage from the nearby harbour. The gangway passed in a blur as Shan Pu flowed through the slower passengers and erupted into the main concourse, dodging around a reuniting family.  
As soon as she was free of the main gathering of the crowd of reuniting relatives, friends and milling businessmen and women, Shan PU rooted herself to the floor and scanned her surroundings, taking in the situation as she had been taught. Everything was filled into threat and non threat. Most of the people fell into the latter, only the military and police officials registered as a threat.  
Shan Pu frowned. Hyu Chin had to be waiting somewhere.  
Scanning the people once more, Shan Pu took her time. A woman, leaning on a cane and hunched against a support column, was drinking what appeared to be tea. She was older, nearly fifty, Shan Pu decided. Her dark hair, pulled tightly into a conservative bun, was shot with silvery gray, but her skin was surprisingly free of lines and wrinkles.   
Her honed sense indicated the woman was not a threat, but it also said that she wasn't someone to be ignored either, which either meant she was focused on something else, or was a master of the Arts.   
As Shan Pu watched the woman, she glanced up at the young Amazon and gave a small, almost imperceptible gesture. Shan Pu's eyes widened momen- tarily and then she nodded her head and began to walk toward the customs desk.   
She passed through quickly as she flashed her Chinese citizenship papers and travel VISA. Most of the custom agents were too busy with several indignant Americans to pay Shan Pu more than a cursory glance, and that glance was more appraising of her salient features than any desire to contradict her claim of citizenship.  
The woman was waiting for Shan Pu, as she exited the customs desk and entered the main concourse. A grandmotherly smile lit across the woman's face as Shan Pu approached.   
"Shan Pu. It is nice to Finally meet you," The woman said in the Amazon dialect, confirming her identity.  
"Elder Hyu Chin," Shan Pu replied respectfully, bowing her head. "I hope I have not caused you undue hardship in meeting me here."  
"Not any great discomfort," Hyu Chin replied lightly. "Look at me child."  
Obediently, Shan Pu raised her head and regarded Hyu Chin. Up close, Shan Pu reorganized her initial impression of the Elder in front of her. She was older than she appeared, maybe nearing eighty or ninety, not nearly as old as her own great-grandmother, but still a very respectable age.  
Her skin, though unwrinkled, was well tanned and worn from years of hard living. Her eyes, a deep brown, regarded Shan Pu like those of a lazily circling eagle, contemplating, unhurried, and deadly. This was a woman to be feared.   
She was also totally unfamiliar to Shan Pu.  
Since Kuh Lon had told her of Hyu Chin, Shan Pu's hope had been that she had at least meet the mysterious Hyu Chin during her life, but such was not her fate. Of course, this did not disturb her. Between all Thirteen Clans of the Amazons, many of the Sisters did not know all of the others. Besides, it was obvious that Hyu Chin was serving as either a Watcher or an Agent in the modern China.   
Since the Mongol occupation of China several hundred years previously, the Amazon Clans had been required to influence the politics and military policies of the current regime in power. Thus the Watchers and Agents had been sent into the world to deal with those who would interfere with the Amazon Clans. Today especially, with the People's Republic in firm control of China, it was even more important for the Amazon Clans to remain hidden and free of interference. As far as Shan PU could figure, Hyu Chin might have been absent from the Clans for more years than Shan PU held in her entire life.  
"You have your mother's features, and her strength," Hyu Chin stated, breaking Shan Pu's thoughts. "I was saddened when I heard of her death. She was one of my best students. Just as I hear you are Kuh Lon's best student."  
"I am shamed to admit that I am not the Revered Kuh Lon's best student anymore," Shan Pu answered quickly and softly. She was glad they were speaking the tongue of the Clans. To admit such a failure openly so all the outsiders milled around her and listened would have been unbearable.  
"Ah, yes. Kuh Lon has spoken at length of your future husband, what was his name?"  
Ranma's handsome face flashed through Shan Pu's mind as the conversation shifted to her husband. "Saotome Ranma," Shan Pu answered obediently, not without some warmth. She did not notice though. She was preoccupied with her own thoughts. That Hyu Chin was making her repeat something she obviously already knew bothered Shan Pu.  
"Say his name again."  
Puzzled, Shan Pu questioned Hyu Chin with her eyes.  
"Say it."  
"His name is Saotome Ranma," Shan Pu stated.  
"You give his name too much deference, " Hyu Chin snapped. "He is your servant, your husband. Do not give him a place above you. I do not understand Kuh Lon's dealings with him, but it is obviously you have allowed him too much control over you. Are you an Amazon, or some subservient foreign woman?"  
"Shan Pu is an Amazon Warrior!" Shan Pu cried indignantly, pulling herself upright. "I am the best warrior of the Joketsuzoku Clan, and I bow to no man."  
"Good, remember that. He is a man. He is your husband. Do not forget that, or I will make sure his life is taken from him and you are punished." Hyu Chin spun on her feet, surprisingly spry for her bent carriage. But then, Shan Pu suddenly realized, that was also a ruse. This woman was dangerous.  
"Is my husband here yet?" San Pu asked offhandedly as she fell in beside Hyu Chin.  
"Not yet, Child." Hyu Chin responded softly. "But Kuh Lon said he would be here at the end of the month, that still gives him a few days to show up. Do not worry. He knows where to meet us, and we will be watching, or rather you will."  
"I will?" Shan Pu queried. "Will you not be here to guide us to Joketsuzoku?"  
"No," Hyu Chin said, shaking her head and glancing around quickly as if checking for someone. "There are two people here, a young woman and man looking for your husband."  
"Akane?" Shan Pu asked quickly, anger building under the surface. The girl had tricked her. That violent wench had broken her word, for that she would die.  
"No." Hyu Chin's answer killed Shan Pu's anger.  
"Then who is it?" Shan Pu asked, kicking herself mentally. She had completely forgotten the conversation with her great-grandmother before she left. The stress and the meeting with Hyu Chin had uncentered her. For a warrior that was a horrible realization.  
"One Kuonji Ukyou. She seems to be an adequate martial artists, and rather taken with your husband."  
"I know her. She is a martial artist who bases her style on her profession of cooking. It is very limited, but powerful if you do not pay attention. She could be a good Amazon if she were to get past her hang ups."  
"Just as I observed. I am pleased to see that you are perceptive as always," Hyu Chin complimented. "I have not seen the other one more than once. He is a young man with a bandanna and carries himself like a warrior. He has great strength, and he is driven by a great deal of heavy emotion. Anger, hurt, depression. He is very dangerous."  
"That would be Ryouga," Shan Pu answered. "He is one of the few people who can hold his own against my husband. He is very dangerous. Even my great- grandmother refuses to teach him anymore. She says that he is much too unstable and dangerous to others and himself." Shan Pu left out the fact that she thought her great-grandmother had made a mistake in even training Ryouga in the first place. The Hibiki boy was too unstable. Nothing good could come out of his desperation to have Akane and defeat Ranma.  
"True but they are resourceful. They are asking about Joketsuzoku and how to get there. They are also looking for Ranma. I need them out of town before he arrives, and I cannot have them stumbling upon the village. Because of that, I will be leading them to northern Qinghai Province and leaving them with a guide who will make sure they are lost in the mountains for a long enough time to get your husband to Joketsuzoku and finish the marriage ceremony."  
"They will not be hurt, will they?" Shan Pu asked fearfully. Though Ukyou was a rival, and Ryouga had been a rival and an ally, Shan Pu could not condone any action that would bring about their deaths. Especially if that death was begotten dishonourably.   
"No, they will be led safely back to Hong Kong eventually. Do not fear, I am not heartless. They are just an inconvenience." Hyu Chin paused as the pair of them exited the airport and made their way into the bustling activity outside the airport. "But we must talk of things."  
"What are those?"  
"You must make sure Ranma stays with you through the first leg of the journey. I have train tickets that will take you and Ranma to Yongren in Yunnan. From there you will follow the Yangtze River north until you reach Dege in the Szechewan Province. Do you know where that is?"  
"Yes, I do. Great-grandmother mentioned that I was to wait for you in the training ground north of the city."  
"Correct. It should take about three weeks for you to get there, since it is in the mountains and most of he distance will have to be done on foot. Don't ride with people. Make sure no one remembers Ranma and you passing. I will meet you at the training ground within a week of you getting there. From there we will head to Joketsuzoku. We should be there before mid-November."  
"I understand, Revered Hyu Chin. I will not disappoint you."  
"I don't expect you to do so." Hyu Chin stated. "Come, we have much to do before tomorrow afternoon, and I need to make sure you have the appropriate papers and the money to get the supplies you will need for the trek to Joketsuzoku. The mountains are very dangerous in the winter."  
Shan Pu followed Hyu Chin as they flowed into the current of people, cars, and noise that eddied through Hong Kong. Shan Pu was smiling al the time. She would have Ranma to herself for three weeks. She needed to make sure she had the proper herbs and a few other items. She was not going to let this opportunity pass her by while she slept. Ranma needed to realize his place, and somehow she needed to make him realize it.   
  
--7--  
  
The land sloped downward before him. Like a nest of snakes, the venomous tentacles of Boukyaku's strength coiled and slithered about the depression, burrowing and rising. A boiling sea of sludge waiting to leech his strength beneath its destructive weight.   
Above him hung the ponderous mirror of the sea at his feet. Brooding like a typhoon, it swirled and coalesced in dark patterns before spinning immobile tendrils out over the sky, cocooning Ranma between heaven and hell. And in the center, the sea geysered upward, and the sky bleed downward in a perverse mating that brazenly defied nature. And from that obscene joining a dark void gaped open and beckoned with ravenous glee.  
For a moment, a fanged maw billowed hungrily open, the throat a burning hell of torment and flame. The heat spiraled outward to scrape across Ranma's tightly held barriers.  
Floating between the two webs, Ranma surveyed his options with a weary heart. Defeating Boukyaku appeared an impossibility, but in truth a victory was defined by an achievement, not a kill. He simply needed to find Xian Lin, free her, and escape to his body with her. And with that, he won.   
Simple in theory. Simple in reality, but this was not reality. Here there were no men arrayed before him in battle gear. No, even though it was a single opponent, how could he fight an opponent that was in itself an entire world, a gateway, and a state of being?  
In their last fight, Ranma had thrown sandbags against the rising flood waters. Against the incessant waves, he had become a breaker, pitted and decayed from overuse. Spray had crashed over his and Xian Lin's efforts by the shear volume of Boukyaku's form. With the seething sea above and below him, Ranma understood Xian Lin's retitience to stray into the crater during that first battle. If she had been seeing what he was, her fear of their failure had been well founded.   
Roughly cursing his inattention, Ranma turned to the problem.  
How did he approach the vast pillar he had once taken as the dark form of Boukyaku?  
A small prickle in his mind warned him, but that was all he got.  
Below him, The coiling veins seethed and a dozen sprayed upward viciously. Sharpening as each approached, they streaked toward the impassive Ranma. With a crushing thought, he gathered his ki and waited. Dodging would waste valuable energy, but here his ki was his body.  
As the points impacted the shield, Ranma reacted naturally, rolling with the blow as if it were a punch. Like mud, his ki parted for the deadly points, surged around them, and then snapped the hardened hate like thin reeds.  
Relaxing, Ranma let the remnants of the attack dissipate as Boukyaku slunk back in agitated defeat.  
Impassive, Ranma assessed his safety before turning inward. Lessons hard learned had taught him Boukyaku fought like a lurking scorpion, striking quickly and secretly, injecting his poison in debilitating doses.  
Once present the venom lulled and dulled the sense like soft piano music before bed. Then the visions, the uncertainty, the twisted belief of betrayal and self-defeat.   
He had succumbed to it once before, but he was on guard.  
And now Xian Lin danced beneath the snake's mesmerizing sway.  
Hatred stained Ranma's soul briefly. Anger and rage quickly followed, tattooing him with their burning colours. Few touched those Ranma loved and were left standing.  
From his stance, the situation was an information problem. He needed to know if Xian Lin was ere, and if she was here where. Intuition dictated that she was in the very center of the maw. Boukyaku would be most powerful there. His conscious would reside there, and it was there he would retreat if things became difficult. Although Ranma was sure, Boukyaku thought little of retreat.   
From their previous meeting, and the ones so far, Boukyaku had shown himself to have little intelligence, or at least limited intelligence. Although hi traps were subtle, they had a predictability about them; a set pattern in the way they blossomed.  
So, in Ranma's view, the most obvious answer should be the right one. However, why did Boukyaku take Xian Lin? Did Boukyaku want him to rescue her, or at least try? That seemed plausible, but it felt wrong.  
Embraced by his wa, Ranma found the entire situation confusing. He felt as if he were on the line of balance but being blown off of it by a subtle, yet incessant, breeze. Boukyaku drew him here for a reason. Boukyaku took Xian Lin, and he had been tormenting Xian Lin to get Ranma to appear in the idol. But why?  
"Too scared to do anything but watch, Boy?" Boukyaku's rumbling voice insulted with a dreadful glee.  
"Nah, just waiting for you to roll out the red carpet," Ranma snapped back. He was not going to lose his composure to this opponent.  
An amused chuckle answered Ranma.  
There was silence for a few moments as Ranma gazed across the chaotic field, searching for the safest, or at least quickest, avenue of attack. Maybe if he weakened one side with a few attacks, large attacks at that, he might push Boukyaku off balance. But would that be enough time to find and rescue Xian Lin? He doubted it.  
"It is interesting to watch you, Boy. You cannot hurt me here."  
"I did last time," Ranma growled in frustration.  
"Ah yes, last time. Well, last time, I am sorry to say, you were tied to the idol, and so you could. This time, you are an observer, Boy. A simple observer."  
Ranma controlled his emotions. It was just another game. Xian Lin had told him that Boukyaku used lies and self-doubt to confuse and win. Just like the bridges of flame he had passed over the last time, Boukyaku's words were empty threats. "Well then you are either too weak to destroy me, or just lazy and sick," Ranma shrugged. "Yah never know exactly what I might've learned while out of your little playground here. So you might just wanna give Xian Lin back and we call it even. I won't kick your ass, and well, I get what I want."  
Ranma let his arm distort and become a long blade of blue-white ki. Looking at the white, he concentrated, forcing the blue into the rest of his body until only a pure blade of white remained. "I know this will hurt."  
"I am sure it will, Boy. Just as each one of Xian Lin's screams will hurt you." A dark chuckle rumbled through the air, and the net in the sky began to swirl in the opposite direction, small tendrils reaching down toward Ranma.  
Ranma noticed them and kept his eye on them, but otherwise ignored Boukyaku's move. If it was a feint, he would not be taken in by it. If an attack, well, he would be ready. "You won't touch her."  
"I have, many times, and I am at this very moment."  
Rage flared across Ranma's senses, his aura surged outward, and he almost raced into an untimely death before he calmed himself and returned to his senses. "You cannot win that easily."  
"Oh no, I will win easier than that. You see. I told you the truth. You are an observer. You can maybe hurt me. You can maybe even defeat me, but it will be the death of Xian Lin. I hold her life. She is not a part of the real world, nor of this, so she is free to be manipulated and controlled by me. You are not a part of the idol, so it won't help me defeat you.   
"So, it would seem that we are at a slight impasse. Do you not think?"  
Ranma remained silent, mulling over Boukyaku's words. He was telling the truth, Ranma was sure of it, but there was something underneath all the words. It was like dealing with Nabiki. He knew she was trying to deceive him, but not how. What was Boukyaku after?  
Freedom? That is what he had been told. Boukyaku needed a mortal body to inhabit. Since he was not an Amazon, he was a perfect candidate. But he had already covered that avenue. Mousse knew what to do, and there was no way Boukyaku could learn the way out of the death that waited him in Ranma's mortal husk. So Ranma was prepared to lose everything. But if he could save Xian Lin . . . if he could give her the time to get out . . . and the information. It just might pay the debt and make Boukyaku suffer. And Akane also.  
Ranma pushed the small voice away. Sometimes the debt of honour had to be paid and could not be ignored.  
"I guess we are," Ranma shrugged. "I can beat your ass into the ground. I know I can. But you'll kill Xian Lin."  
"Yes, and I will enjoy it, Boy."  
"But wouldn't you rather be free?"  
"Do you offer me your soul in exchange for hers?" There was laughter bubbling behind it. The tendrils from above were hovering lower, almost within striking distance of Ranma's form.  
Ranma tried to ignore them as he formulated his next statement.  
"And what if I did?" Ranma steeled himself, offering a silent prayer that Akane would eventually understand, that she would accept the letter.   
Joyful, mocking cackles filled Ranma's mind as Boukyaku enjoyed the moment.   
"I'd refuse it," Boukyaku finally answered in glee.  
"What?"   
"You are useless, Boy. Haven't you figured it out yet? She didn't want you to return. Xian Lin was surprised you were here. Why? Can't you figure it out?"  
Ranma shook his head. She had said they shared emotions because they were connected, but she had not wanted him to come. But the dreams had been so real. So terrifying. But she had been safe when he arrived, safe and simply lonely.  
Which meant she had not been in danger. It meant that he had come here for no reason, except to put her in peril. But if she hadn't been in danger then why did the dreams . . .?  
"You bastard," Ranma whispered.  
"Now you see," Boukyaku chuckled. "The Judgement was broken. I cannot do anything to you. And all you can do is watch while her soul is consumed. She will die because of you, Boy. My revenge is complete!" The insane, gloating cackle increased and the center maw began to writhe and pulse.  
Anger coursed through Ranma's aura. He did not notice the small tendril slipping to within inches of him, waiting and hovering expectantly. Ranma only felt the helpless rage as the dark maw began to part and the figure of Xian Lin appeared, her body impaled upon dozens of the writhing snakes of Boukyaku's eternal hate and hunger.  
"Let her go! Let her go or I'll kill you!"  
"You cannot do anything human. You cannot touch me or her. She is dead!"  
"No!"  
Ranma gathered his focus, harvested his rage. Boukyaku had admitted that he could be defeated, and there was always a chance that Xian Lin might survive.  
In the distance Xian Lin lifted her head. Across the massive crater, Ranma saw her begging eyes. He heard her mewling cries of pain. And as their eyes met, he felt her burning pain, her desperation, her sadness, and the fear. Fear for his life Fear for his safety. And beyond that her love and longing, and the desire that he just leave.   
Ranma almost did. He almost allowed her wishes to control him.  
Then Boukyaku tore at her soul, and her scream rent the air like the wail of a grieving mother. It cleaved his mind in two and allowed the rage to burn across his aura and consume him.  
And then Boukyaku struck.   
His tendril of hate slithered in as Ranma screamed in articulate rage, his ki gathering for the attack. And then it touched. And then it twisted Ranma's emotions. Rage became hate, dark, purposeful, and powerful.  
Alone with his rage, Ranma could not control it, and as swept away by the rising flood.  
As with Hiryu Shoten Ha, Ranma's soul became ice. The world became clear, the idol, Boukyaku, himself, and his body outside. He could sense the different harmonies of ki in his aura, his blue and the white that was Xian Lin. They pulsed in time with his thoughts as he shot forward like an arrow of light, cleaving through the darkness of Boukyaku's writhing nest.  
Ranma was water as he wound through the mass of Boukyaku. Venomous snakes that struck for him, found air as he launched away and moved even closer to the center. He was air as he slashed through dozens of the snakes which rose to impede his way. He was fire as his hate burned forth in raw gouts of energy that lashed the earth and sky, cleansing the dark presence of Boukyaku and leaving only barren red soil. He was the mountain as he pressed onward toward the center as an avenging angel of death, his ki brushing of the annoying wind and rain Boukyaku hoped to wear him down with before the end.   
But he was an avalanche. HE was a striking hawk. He was a dragon, and a god as he waded through the cancer of dark filth that filled the prison of the idol.   
Ranma was aware of the world. He was aware of Boukyaku but it was not important. He wanted Xian Lin safe. He allowed his emotions to do the work. His hate and anger and rage reacted as they thought best. Nothing could touch him, and Ranma felt Boukyaku's fear as the last line of defenses vanished beneath his blazing white sword of ki as if they were the rocks and he the rising flood.  
The center of Boukyaku stood before him, and Xian Lin was struggling weakly. He was there a moment later, his ki slicing through the entangling mass of leeching scum.   
Xian Lin was screaming at him, but Ranma was beyond words. He kicked free of an grasping glob of darkness, and then blasted a hole in the gaping maw with a brief thought. Another struck his body, and he crushed it with an errant thought before turning to the center again. Six quick, short balls of ki cleared his path and he rushed heedlessly forward.  
Xian Lin was struggling, still impaled upon the dark spikes that held her. Seeing this, Ranma fell upon them like a rabid animal, his hands and feet tearing and clawing through each dark spike, pulling the broken pieces from Xian Lin's astral form, or disintegrating them with another ki blast.  
There was no patter to his attacks, just inhumane savagery,. A bestial rage infested Ranma, his hate driving him onward to destroy Boukyaku and save Xian Lin. And then he touched her.   
And the spikes disappeared, and then she was in his arms, and he felt his heart lift in joy as the darkness of hate began to recede, and then Boukyaku was laughing. His cackling filling Ranma's hate filled thoughts.  
"Fool! You have lost the game, Boy. You have lost and now you are mine!"  
Realization struck Ranma as the small piece Boukyaku had left inside him flared to life. The heavy emotions of hate and anger clawed in on Ranma, immobilizing him and slowly atrophying his form.  
"Ranma let me go. Save yourself."  
"No!" Ranma screamed, his voice filled with pain as the dark emotions began to eat away at his soul. "I owe you," he gasped. "I will not let you die. He can't have my body!"  
"Then go back, Ranma!" Xian Lin wept, pulling her form away from his. "I will stay. I deserve to die here. It is my fault you came back."  
"Neither of you will survive," Boukyaku preened.  
The world began to burn, and Ranma and Xian Lin screamed in pain. Even through the pain. Ranma felt Xian Lin's suffering, and he knew he had to save her. He had made that choice before he came to the idol. He had made a promise. Boukyaku may have tricked him, but Ranma would still win.  
Reaching within himself, Ranma found the part of is body where he loved those around him. It was untainted and pure, burning brightly inside him. Grasping it like a bat, he swung it toward Xian Lin's screaming form.  
For a moment there was a still peace in his mind as he broke from Boukyaku's hold. For a moment he was at peace as his love and devotion roared out from is center and washed over Xian Lin. "You can't have her!" Ranma screamed as he struck.  
Xian Lin cried out in protest, but she could do nothing and was thrown back from Ranma and Boukyaku, freed from the dark form and from the pain.  
Boukyaku cry of rage watched over Ranma and seared into his mind, but he was at peace. Xian Lin was safe.  
"Ranma."  
The voice filtered into his mind.  
"Go away, Xian Lin. Please leave here. You can go to my body. Take it, it is yours, please. You deserve a life. You deserve freedom."  
"Not without you. Please, don't do this Ranma. Don't!"  
"Write Akane's name on the ground when you wake. Mousse will kill you if you don't. Please, Xian Lin. Do this for me."  
"Ranma!" her voice sobbed desperately in the vaults of his cloudy mind. The pain was unbearable. Everything was becoming hazy, indistinct.   
Ranma realized he was losing his identity. His soul, and he softly began to weep in despair and pain.  
"Xian Lin . . . I'm sorry," he whispered, reaching out with his love for her, trying to console her, and then reaching beyond her. "Akane. Akane! Tell her. I Love . . . love . . . I love you . . . Akane. . . ."  
Boukyaku grasped Ranma tightly and slammed home several spikes of his being, wrapping and cocooning Ranma, and then he reached for the very center of Ranma's being and began to tear at it, and Ranma's soul . . .   
  
--8--  
  
Screamed. Her voice pierced the night calm, sending birds to flight and lighting windows in nearby houses. Tearing at her vocal cords, it ripped through her throat and into the open like a terrified child as she struggled in her sheets.   
He was dead. Her subconscious wailed in grief. Her voice shattered in an endless crescendo of pain.  
Tears flowed down her cheeks as the sheets twisted around her, tightening about her arms and chest. Drowning as her horrified wail died, she was unable to breathe, her mouth still wide open in silent agony.   
He was dead!  
Eyes gapping, she panicked, desperately trying to breathe. Thrashing about, The world fell out from beneath her and then rushed to meet her side as she slammed into the wooden floor. Fire raced across her arm and shoulder, burning brightly and briefly before the welcoming ice of numbness claimed her senses. The pain woke her, and a thin tattered breath passed her lips. Her voice reedy, she began to cough, her breaths growing in strength; however, The horror of her waking and the nightmare still entrapped her like an unseen thorn bush at night.   
Terror and helplessness mounted as she struggled, fighting the sheets, her lungs, The memory.  
He was dead!  
She was alone.  
Curling up, she sucked in her breath and breathed out a choked sob. Begging for oblivion, she whispered his name like a protective ritual.  
Then she was being lifted, a soft voice comforting her. Unfocused and tear streaked vision watched the four figures huddling about her. A diaphanous curtain fell between her and the figures. It was soft and smelled faintly of flour and spice. Hair, light brown hair.  
"Kasumi!" her voice pleaded.  
"Shh, it is alright. It was just a dream. Just a dream."  
"He's dead. I can't feel him. I can't see him. He just disappeared." Burying her head in the warmth in front of her, she cried softly, her voice muffled and distant. "He just disappeared. It was such a pleasant dream. He was holding me, and then nothing . . . nothing. . . ," her voice whispered and faded to a sobbing sigh. As her voice died, she lifted her head. Searching, she sought out that part of her heart that gave her hope, that shown with the love Ranma had given her. It was that spot that told her when he was behind her, when he was looking at her, when he was safe.   
Emptiness.  
A glaring void clutched her heart, mocking her pain, as it built a wall before her doomed, frantic attempts to find Ranma's love.  
Then the horror whitewashed her face, as a wail escaped her. "I can't find him!"  
Her voice cracked and Akane sobbed wretchedly as she hid her face in the soft cotton covered bosom.   
"It was just a dream. Everything will be fine in the morning."  
Over and over the reassurance caressed her and lulled her abused and torn emotions. The void retreated as she was loved. Her sniffles ceased, and her eyes dried as she let the cooing melody rock her gently back into sleep.  
"Mother. . . ," she whispered longingly as she Finally closed her eyes and surrendered to the seductive call.  
A single tear fell and shattered against Akane's dark hair. Kasumi held her younger sister softly, cooing wordlessly. Kasumi remembered when her own mother had done the same to dispel her nightmares.  
Through watery eyes, she watched the horizon burn into a new day against the city lights.   
She was a mother to Akane now.  
But who was supposed to soothe the distraught mother?  
  
--9--  
  
A forge-red bronze sky burned on the horizon as Mu Tsu made his way back toward camp, two full canteens of water slung carelessly over his shoulder. Although being careful on the rocky slopes, he was hurrying to get back to the fire and Ranma. He did not want to take a chance that his sensei would be in danger because he decided that hot water would be best to have around just in case something happened to him at the wrong moment. And knowing the Jusenkyo curses, he was sure that his curse would be activated at the exact wrong moment.  
Once out of the last patch of rocks, Mu Tsu briskly covered the last couple hundred feet to the dancing flames of their campfire. Ranma-onna was still in silent repose, her chest barely rising and falling as she breathed.   
Putting down the canteens, Mu Tsu checked for signs of consciousness, but even physical contact did not dislodge Ranma-onna from her meditative trance. Sighing in frustration and impatience, Mu Tsu filled a pot with water and placed it on the flames.  
The waiting was wearing on him like he carried Buddha's statue. Though he considered himself patient due to his decade long pursuit of Shan Pu, he hated the fact that he was just an observer in a life and death struggle. He was a final trump card to beat a thing whose nature few Amazons even knew.  
Of course, this was Ranma he was worrying about. If anyone could come through against Boukyaku, than Ranma could. Had he not done it before when the actual Judgement was in effect? So why could he not do it know when he was no longer subject to the idol's power?  
Ranma was strong, spiritually and physically. Over the past months, Mu Tsu had at times been overwhelmed by the shear magnitude of Ranma's aura. In practice it just seemed to radiate from his body, searching the world around Ranma like it was another sense.   
The fact that even he could feel it told Mu Tsu that Ranma was still learning how to use his aura, but that clumsiness disappeared quickly when Ranma set his mind to it. Even in the past days, Mu Tsu had watched spellbound as Ranma unconsciously began to control his aura and ki with much greater dexterity.   
Soon Ranma would be unbeatable. It was just a matter of. . .  
"No!"  
The pain-filled scream ripped Mu Tsu away from his maudlin thoughts to Ranma-onna. She was convulsing in the dim morning light, her eyes wide open, her mouth open in a silent scream of pain.  
Stumbling, Mu Tsu darted across the fire to come to rest next to Ranma- onna, one hand resting on the tanto, The other reaching for Ranma-onna's brow. Nearly six inches from her face, Mu Tsu snatched his hand back as a wave of intense heat washed over his hand and arm, leaving reddened flesh and a few blisters.  
Ranma-onna's face twisted and jerked spasmodically with each short breath she drew. ". . .can't . . . her . . ." The words floated eerily from Ranma-onna's open mouth.  
Shocked, Mu Tsu watched in terror, The hand holding the tanto shaking uncontrollably. He was lost. What was he supposed to do now? Ranma was in trouble. HE was losing. He was dying!  
That thought jumped him into action. Scrambling backwards, he grabbed the pot from the fire. Hopefully the water was hot enough. He was not sure this would work. But Ranma had told him he needed his cursed form to beach the barrier. Maybe his normal form would drag him back to the world.   
As he approached Ranma-onna, however, he was halted as she spoke again.   
". . . Lin . . . leave . . . my body . . . take . . . please . . . you deserve . . . ."  
Did Ranma want Xian Lin to take over his body? Was he giving his life away for a cursed Amazon? The thought rocked Mu Tsu from his cultural foundation. Some sins were so ingrained in the Amazon psyche that they literally brought about nausea and shame when mentioned. Xian Lin's transgression was one.  
And now Ranma was going to free her? Give her his life? Let the cursed Amazon live in his place? Never!  
But it was Ranma's wish.  
Mu Tsu was held rigid by his indecision, his arm cocked to throw the hot water. He could not allow himself to free Xian Lin, but he could not turn his back on Ranma. He owed his sensei more than his life.  
". . . Lin . . . Akane . . . sorry . . . love you . . ."  
The last words were cut off in an inhuman scream of pain that echoed across the campsite and shattered against the face of Mt. Ureshino. Then it died, and Ranma's body became still, no breath moving her chest.   
No movement.   
No a slight flutter at the throat.   
No more time to agonize. Ranma needed him in one way or another. He owed his sensei that.  
Mu Tsu threw the boiling water at his sensei, drawing the tanto in the next instant just in case.  
  
Author's Notes:  
  
--Translations--   
  
RELATIONS AND TITLES:  
  
Otousan/otousama - father Okaasan - mother oneechan/neechan - older sister imoto - younger sister oniisan - older brother oyaji - old man, disrespectful form of father jiji - very disrespectful term for an older man ojisan - older man or uncle obaasan - older woman or aunt obaba - grandmother hiibaachan - great-grandmother same musume - daughter tsuma or kanai - one's own wife otto or shujin - husband -san - everday ending for a name. Takes place of Mister, Ms,or Mrs. -kun - more informal ending, used to refer to subordinates or friends -chan - ending that denotes affection or can mean little on a pet. Used   
mostly for children and teenage girls -sama - very respectful. Like Lord or Lady. Means you are less than them sensei - master, teacher, doctor, or officer. -sempai - generally an older person, more of a mentor than anything  
  
OTHERS:  
  
kissaten - coffe house, tea house hajimemashite - customary greeting the first time people meet. It means,   
basically, it is nice to meet you doozo yoroshiku - customary part of gretting. Meansbasically, please regard  
me favourably. Note: there are several different introduction orders   
but they all involve this phrase and the one above. Often meishi   
(business cards) are exchanged at the same time. En-go - go-between. The honourable relatiuonship. It is not considered   
proper to approach someone unless someone else acts as a go-between a  
mediator who knows both parties. Being a go-between is big business   
in Japan. sukebe - pervert otoko - male onna - female otoko no hito - man onna no hito - girl Soo-desu - It is so - or - that is so Hai - yes Iie - no masaka - impossible wa - center. A state of meditatvie trance. fuwa - discord, the opposite of wa ki - soul chi - energy of the soul and life sakura - cheery blossoms -fu - as in Okayama-fu, means Prefecture -ji - means temple, so Sansui-ji is the Temple of Sansui zabuton - the pillows that Japanese kneel on when they are at a table  
or in a seiza position seiza - position of kneeling tatami - floor mats, these are made of tightly woven reeds or rice. A   
room's size is usually indicated by the number of tatami, i.e. a 6  
tatami room shoji - rice paper doors, light and airy. Shogi - Japanese form of chess Go - a Japanese game involving black and white stones where you try to   
turn as many stones to your color as possible cha - tea chasen - the bamboo wisk used to prepare the tea in the chawan chawan - the tea bowl cha-no-yu - proper name for the Tea Ceremony gomen/gomen nasai - sorry arigato - thank you ne - a term similar to Right? Or eh? Denotes question requiring an   
affirmative answer. ja (dewa) mata - well, again... sort of like see ya later sayonara - good bye shitsuree shimasu - exuse me - good bye oyasuminasai - good night ohayo - good morning konnichi wa - good afternoon (used until 5pm) konban wa - good evening sumimasen - pardon me and in some cases thank you meiyo - honour ai - love soshite - and (used for sentences, but I misused it and don't want to   
change it) Of course, as I thought about it, I realized it still   
worked as a kind of progression. Soshite literally means "and then"   
so the title could be translated as a type of journey, honour, love,   
and then hate. Of course, that is pushing it. nikushimi - hate  
  
I didn't use all of them, but I'm trying to compile a section of commonly used words in my fics...   
  
I don't have a translation for the song in the begining. It is a more recent folk song, from around the 1950s's or 60's that can be sung to chikldren. It has something to do with spreading your wings and finding your dreams and flying away. It is actually very nice and is song slow and very beautifully, the notes generally ranging from low C to high A. As soon as I find the translation, I will put it on the story.   
  
Author's Notes:  
  
Well, it has been a very long time. Actually, longer than i wanted it to be, but I could never find the inspiration nor the time to work on MASN. This in and of itself is shorter than I wanted it to be, which is promtping a Chapter 10 for part 4. The next chapter should be of similar length as this so I am actually glad I am cutting it down in size, a 200+ kb post is not my idea of nice to my readers.  
  
anyway, I don't want to explain anything at this point. A lot of the stuff going on in here is a reflection of my studies of yin and yang, Zen, Tao, and a few other Eastern Philosophies over the last year and a half. I am setting up the next large event in Ranma's struggles for individuality and freedom. SO pelase bear with me if you do not understand some of what went on. It is not indtended to be understood instantly, but more as a time unfolds and you can slowly begin to see the center of the blossom, hidden behind the parting petals. My, I have to stop reading poetry.   
  
Anyway, this is a very rough draft. If you have any comments or criticisms about the part, please refer them to my email account, either one.  
  
until next time Joseph A. Kohle  
  
----*----*----*----*----*----*----*----*----*----  
All rights and priveleges to Ranma Nibunnoichi   
belong to Rumiko Takahashi. The characters of her   
series are used without her permission for the   
purpose of entertainment only. This work of fic-  
tion is not meant for sale or profit.   
  
All original characters are the creation of the  
author. All copyright privileges to these chara-  
cters are reserved for the author.  
  
This story is a product of the author's hard work   
and imagination. Do not modify, add to, or make   
use of any part of this work without the author's   
knowing and written consent. Please feel free to archive   
this work.   
  
Comments and criticism are welcome.   
Written by Joseph A. Kohle, (c) January 2000.   
Send all comments to jakohle@worldnet.att.net  
or to j_ashira@hotmail.com  
Find some of my fanfics at   
http://www.geocities.com/Tokyo/Flats/6184/JosephKohles.html 


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